Forever
by Ereshkigali
Summary: [COMPLETE] When Max invites the gang to stay at his dad's new house by the sea, no one imagines the...interesting...results this simple vacation will have...[TyKa]
1. Silent Treatment

**Ereshkigali:** Guess what?

**Ming Ming:** What?

**Ereshkigali:** A semi-deranged, katana-wielding plot bunny called Fred popped up and bit me in the behind. I figured it would be best not to argue, so I kicked my sister out of the room, commandeered the computer and started typing.

**Ming Ming:** That means that I get to do a cute and witty disclaimer, does it not?

**Ereshkigali:** Of course.

**Daichi:** She's not even in this fic! Why does she get to do the disclaimer?

**Ming Ming:** Well, you're not in it either. Why does it matter? Ereshkigali doesn't own Beyblade. Hah!

**Daichi:** No fair. Why are we here, anyway?

**Ereshkigali:** Kai and Tyson were…otherwise occupied. Euphemistically speaking. Oh, let's just get on with the fic, shall we?

**Chapter One**

**Silent Treatment**

You were chewing on a blade of grass, your arms folded behind your head, your eyes gazing up into the warm, wide sky. The late, sweet sunlight shimmered down through the air and played on the rustling grasses as they rippled in the gentle, whispering breeze. You completely ignored me, of course, even when my shadow fell across your face. You know that you have a serious attitude problem, right? It involves being as mean as you possibly can to anyone who's trying to be nice to you even the littlest bit.

"Hey there, Kai," I said, sitting down cross-legged in the long grass next to you. "How're you doing?" I didn't expect him to answer. He's been talking even less than ever lately. "Hilary said that if you're going to stay with us, you have to say at least one word everyday. Otherwise she's kicking you out."

You gave this little puff of laughter, and this little almostsmile played around your lips.

"Hey! You smiled! That means you're in a good mood!"

You tilted your head ever so slightly, and spared me a second's glance. Your eyes, as always, were unreadable. Hey, I was used to it. You've always been the mysterious stranger or whatever. You've always been at the edge of everything, holding yourself away from us, keeping yourself apart. I don't mind, although I did at first. I get it now, though – that's just who you are. All that maters is that you're happy, and if wandering around by yourself glaring at invisible specks of dust is what you want to do, then I'm fine. What I know for sure is that you always turn up when we need you most. That's one of the best things about you: you're loyal. You don't act like it, but you are. I know that you'll do anything you've promised to do. It's how you are.

What you don't know is that I'd do anything for you.

I flopped down onto my stomach, folding my arms and laying my chin on them, letting the grass tickle my nose. I cold feel your ribs brushing against the tip of my elbow as you breathed in and out, and I liked the contact. You are my very favourite person, Kai, you really are. You're the strongest, more powerful, most passionate blader I know. I've watched you blade, and you're a different person. You don't hold yourself back. You don't scorn everyone and everything. You are free when you blade, Kai. I know that. There is this brilliance that burns inside of you, this fierce, intense power that transcends anything else I've ever known. You think I don't see, but I do.

I watched a beetle wobble its way up the slope of my hand, its shiny body red as a tiny, perfectly round drop of blood. Lifting my head, I blew on it gently, and it toppled over, flexed its small, soft wings, and flew away into the sky. "Aw, look at the little bug!" I said. "Kai…Kai, you didn't look! It was cute."

You turned your head very slowly, so that you were looking across at me, your eyes on mine. You said, warningly, "Tyson, I came here for some quiet."

"You're such a grouch," I muttered.

"You're an immature nuisance."

"I am not! You're the one who disappeared for three months last year."

"You knew where I was, Tyson. You're exaggerating," you said, closing your eyes and turning your face back up the sky. The sun was making your pale skin glow with a soft, golden warmth, so it was almost as though you were made of light. I let my head fall back onto my folded hands, and gazed across at you. I feel so much better just being near you, Kai. It's very cool to be able to think, _Kai is my friend. Kai _likes _me. He's my friend._

"It was still kind of lonely without you," I mumbled, crossly. "You didn't call or _anything_."

"I was training. There was no time to call. Tala agreed with me," you said, your eyes still closed.

"We missed you," I said. You said nothing, but I swear I saw your jaw clench. I continued, "You like disappearing on us, don't you? I think you do it on purpose. You _make_ us worry about you. You do it all for attention."

"There's only one person here who tries to attract attention," you said, pointedly.

"Kai, if you're feeling neglected, you don't have to go such lengths, you know," I said, beginning to grin wickedly. "I mean, you shouldn't keep emotions all bottled up inside you. You could have just told one of us that were feeling left out, or…"

Without saying a word, you let the thin blade of grass fall from your lips, and sat up and began pushing yourself off the ground. My grin faded, and I latched onto your arm, trying to pull you back down. You paused, balanced on your knees, and glared down at my arm. I didn't let go. "Dude, I was just teasing!" I said.

"Get your hands off me," you said in a low voice.

"Don't go," I pleaded. "I'm sorry, OK? I was just messing with you. I didn't mean it. _I'll_ go, alright?"

"Let go of me, Tyson," you warned.

"You can't tell me what to do, Kai!" I yelled. "Stop bossing me around! You don't rule the world yet.'

"Tyson, stop it!" You jerked your arm away, fuming, and fell back into the grass, folding your arms behind your head again, crossing one leg over the other, your eyes firmly closed. I looked down at you, and suddenly felt really bad.

"Sorry," I said, awkwardly. "I didn't mean to…I'll go. I am just a nuisance."

"You don't have to go," you said, dully. "Stay if you want to. I don't care."

"No," I said, getting annoyed all over again. You can never just back down, can you? You always have to win. "I'll go. You don't want me here, I'm irritating you, and there's no point in just sitting here, anyway. It's OK, seriously.

"Tyson, I said that you could stay," you said. I knew that you were also getting annoyed.

"No. I'm going," I said, and got up, shrugging my jacket closer around me, jamming my cap down over my face. I hadn't taken three steps when I heard give an exasperated sigh, and say,

"Come back, Tyson."

"No," I said, without turning around. "You're just going to be mean again."

"I'm sorry," you said. I turned back to look at you. You were sitting up, glaring furiously at the ground, your arms hugging your knees. "Don't be stupid. Just sit down and shut up."

"Fine," I said, huffily. I wasn't exactly sure if I had won or lost that particular argument. I don't think he was either. I told myself that it didn't matter, and sat down next to him in the grass, determined to give him the silent treatment.

There was a small hitch in that plan, though.

See, if you want to ignore someone, they have to be talking to you. Then you can pretend not to listen. If they're just sitting there saying nothing, it isn't very obvious that you're ignoring them. Then you just have two people sitting together in silence, which doesn't really work that well. After a while, I said, sternly, "I'm not talking to you, you know."

"Really?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Um…yes!" I said, and folded my arms to prove my point. Then I frowned at him, narrowing my eyes and pouting my lips. To my annoyance, you gave a nasty little snicker and looked away, gazing out across the playground.

I followed suit. I like being up on the hill. It reminds of that time when we battled together after the whole BEGA fiasco ended. When you told us that Dranzer was gone, I swear I'd almost cried. You had just been standing there, your arms hanging limply at your sides, your eyes empty, your face impassive. Looking at you then had been horrible. I'd felt almost sick to realise how much you had given up. Your bravery was incredible. Kenny had worked his usual magic, though, and, in the end, Dranzer was fixed up better than ever, and we had bladed together again. That had been the best battle of my life, I swear. By that time, I knew you so well that each of your moves had made as much sense, had been as clear in my mind as my own. It was really and truly like battling myself, and I knew, looking across at you through the glow of our Bitbeasts and the swirling dust, that you had felt the same way.

I can't even remember who won, now. All I can remember is fighting you, is pushing myself to the limit, feeling your spirit pressed up against my own, so that in that moment we were closer than any embrace could bring us.

"It was the best, wasn't it?" you asked, a little stiffly, breaking into my thoughts.

"Yeah," I said, enthusiastically, my irritation forgotten. We both knew that we had been thinking the same thing. "I swear, I don't care how old I get to be. I'll always remember that, no matter what. It was like – I love it when we blade, Kai. You're…you're real, then. I know that you're not going just going to disappear. I know that you'll always be there."

You looked at me, and then smiled, this small, half-ashamed, tender smile: an apology for ignoring me for those three long months when we hadn't heard a thing from you, an apology for all the times you had cut me down or snubbed me. I hadn't need one. I said, clearing my throat, "That was you trying to say sorry, wasn't?"

You nodded.

"You didn't need to, you know."

You shrugged.

I punched you on the shoulder, lightly. "You numbskull."

"I thought you weren't talking to me."

"I'm not."

"Fine. I'm not talking to you."

In silence, we sat together on the warm, sunny hillside, remembering the same things, drawing the same comfort from each other's closeness. He was the most annoying, pig-headed, arrogant person I'd ever known, and he was the best friend I'd ever had. Weird how life does that to you, isn't it? We didn't need to say anything much. Sometimes, when it's between friends, a single look can mean more than any words.

The fact that I didn't think of him as only a friend anymore was, I told myself firmly, not important at all.

So we sat there for a while, looking out across the deserted playground, surrounded by silence and by sunlight.

**Ereshkigali:** OK, so this is mostly fluffy friendship at the moment, but it will develop into the hottest shonen-ai (which may end up raising the rating) I am able to write within the next few chapters. There are also going to be some weird time shifts – so one chapter will flashback to Kai going off to train in Russia for three months, while another will skip ahead to the future, and so on.

**Kai:** GAH! FLUFF BUNNIES! GET THEM OFF ME! DIE, RATS, DIE!

**Ereshkigali:** Hey, give me a break here. I don't actually have a plot yet, you know. Review, minions!


	2. Not Yet Forgotten

You see that over there in the distance? That's actually something approaching a plot! W00t! Maybe this won't be a total loss after all.

This chapter is set quite a while **before** the previous one. I say again, it is a **FLASHBACK**. **DO NOT GET CONFUSED.** Kai is going off to Russia for a training stint with Tala, as was mentioned in Chapter One.

For the disclaimer, warnings, pairings and the rest of the rules and regulations, check out the first chapter. I'm lazy and I don't want to retype it all. Bear with me here. Why do today what you can stuff into the darkest depths of your files and hope will never see the light of day again?

Plus, the whole second person POV thing wasn't working. It only really works well when used in conjunction with the present tense, I've found. As my English teacher once gave me sixty percent for an assignment I wrote in the present tense, I've been paranoid about using it ever since. So I'm back to a more normal POV.

**Chapter Two**

**Not Yet Forgotten **

By the time we got to the airport, the sun was already setting, we were running late, Kai was getting cranky, and I was close to crying.

Grandpa dropped us off at the departures hall and circled away to try and find a parking space. I remember Kai looking kind of put off by having me with him as he grabbed his two suitcases and began to wheel them away rapidly. I think he'd been kind of hoping that I'd stay in the car, and that he would be able just to walk away as usual. Not happening. I was sticking with him for as long as possible this time. I wasn't letting him out of my sight until I absolutely had to.

He strode into the huge, packed departures hall, apprehensively checking the time. We were very late. Cool air, carefully conditioned but still slightly stale, hit my face, along with the low hum of conversation. I expected him to go striding off without a word towards the gate to his flight, but instead, he pushed his way through the crowd, dragged his suitcases over to a chair, sat down, kicked his legs out in front of him and folded his arms across his chest.

"Um…shouldn't you be going?" I asked, coming to stand in front of him after having battled my way through a knot of tourists.

He motioned his head towards the departures board, where his flight was listed as delayed. Oh, great. So that meant that I had a whole fifteen more minutes with him. In one way, that was good, in another, it sucked. How was I supposed to last fifteen minutes without crying? I sunk down into the chair next to his, locked my hands firmly behind my head, and stared up at the ceiling determinedly.

See, here's the thing: Maxie had left already, although he was due to come back sometime soon to see his dad again. Rei had gone a couple weeks ago. Hilary was going to stay overseas with one of her friends from school for a couple of weeks. I mean, I'd been getting all happy about having a real Bladebreakers reunion, and then everyone just…leaves.

Again.

Most of all, I had been looking forward to spending time with him – not the sort of time that involves loads of awkward silence before he gets on a plane and walks right out of my life, but the sort of time that involves…well, I don't know – blading, arguing, having fun - maybe even some normal conversation, if that wasn't too much to ask.

Apparently, it wasn't going to happen.

I was sitting on a hard, uncomfortable plastic chair in a crowded, noisy airport, and I was completely freaking out. I was all high and shivery from adrenaline, my heart pumping very loudly in my ears. My throat felt bruised and choked as I tried to hold back tears. I knew it was stupid to be crying, but I really, really, _really_ didn't want him to go. My legs were like water, all quivery and weak, and breathing was getting difficult. There was a tight, miserable hotness in my chest, and every now and then, I would think about him again, and I would get even more upset, and tears would push themselves up behind my eyes and threaten to spill down my cheeks.

I was not having fun.

After a few minutes, I said, desperate to break the silence, "How long are you staying there?"

"I told you," he said, shortly. "A month."

"Call me when you get there, OK?" I asked. "If it ends up like last time, I'm going to…do…I'm going to be cross with you for the rest of my life, got it? Call me."

"Fine," he said, sounding disinterested.

"Please?"

"I already said I would," he growled in a low voice. He was getting mad, and I didn't care. I had to make sure.

"I mean, Rei's already written us a letter, and Maxie e-mails, like, every other day. You…"

"I said I would, Tyson, now leave it!"

"Fine," I said, and sniffed. I hoped that it wasn't too obvious.

"Do you have a cold?" he snapped.

So much for hoping. "No," I said, swallowing hard.

"Then shut up."

"No!" I yelled, jerking around to face him. His eyes were closed, his mouth folded impassively. It was like I wasn't even there. The sight made the confused welter of feelings inside me spill up, and I shouted, "I'm not going to see you for a month, Kai! A month! Do you know how long that is? That's, like, forever! And without you! I can't go forever without you! I…Kai…are you even listening to me?"

"It would be difficult not to," he said, disdainfully. "You're shouting."

"Of course I'm shouting!" I…shouted. "You know why? Because you make me so mad, Kai! Because no matter how hard we try to be nice to you, all you do is act like a stupid, stuck-up jerk! And for some reason, we actually like you, and our feelings get hurt when you won't talk to us, but you don't actually care, because you're so self-centred that you don't give about anyone except yourself!"

He gave that soft little 'huh' sound he always makes when he's about to be really evil, and said, smoothly, "There's a difference between self-centredness and self-control."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I squeaked indignantly.

"Figure it out," he said.

I hate him.

"Are you even going to look at me, Kai?" I asked eventually, my voice low, and slightly rough with the maddening tears that I was only just managing to hold back. I couldn't stop looking at him, at his stupid pale skin and his stupid hair and his stupid, frowning mouth. I was willing him to open his eyes even the littlest bit, and for him to turn his head and just maybe give me even the teensiest little smile – but no. Kai smiles approximately once a year. I knew that.

"Why should I?"

I didn't really have an answer for that. Infuriated, I stuck my tongue out at him; this was a total waste of energy, seeing as we'd just established that his eyes were closed. Right. My brain wasn't working. I was too busy stopping myself from bursting into tears to focus on normal things like thinking.

I still couldn't stop looking at him.

Plus, I hadn't eaten in _hours_.

Not a good day, then.

Why do I even care so much? Why do I bother? Why?

OK, actually, I do know why. It's cause that, even though he makes like he's all tough and he doesn't care, I know perfectly well that he _does_ care. He stood by me through every single battle, even when we fought each other. If there's anyone I had to lose to, I would want to lose to him. The one thing I really admire about him is his dedication. He pushes himself so hard that it scares me, sometimes. I could never do half the things he could.

Then again, I don't think I could ever be as mean as he is. Doesn't he get bored of being an arrogant, conceited creep? I mean, no matter how hard you try, sooner or later you're going to have to have someone to go running to. No one can do everything alone – not even Kai.

He could come running to me whenever he wanted, and you know why? Because I look up to him. Because he is strong and proud and fierce and dedicated, and because I trust him. You know when you just really, _really_ like someone? When even thinking about not having them with you just scares you? I like being around him. I like knowing, at the back of my mind, that he's always going to be there. I like pretending that he's never going to go away.

Yeah. Pretending.

I heard it then: the announcement that boarding for his flight had begun. Something inside me lurched, and for a minute I thought that I was going to be sick. I pressed my lips together hard, held my breath, and tried to count to ten, which is what Hilary always tells me to do when I'm going to get mad at someone. Guess what? I think my brain shut down about halfway here. See, that was when Kai stood up - calmly, wordlessly, and without looking back at me. He lifted his small suitcase into his hand, grabbed the handle of the larger one and began wheeling it across the white, tiled floor. No goodbye. Not even a look. Nothing.

Forget about counting to ten. He was _dead_.

I got up, fell over, scrambled to my feet, and began running. "Kai! Wait up!" He just kept walking. I skidded to a halt behind him, choking on adrenaline and some other feeling that I refused to think about, and grabbed his arm, pulling him around to face me, almost getting hit in the stomach by the suitcase.

As he looked up at me, there was this very weird expression in his eyes, almost like he was asking me for a favour. He said, in a quiet, urgent voice, "Could you leave me alone for _once_, Tyson?"

"No," I said, firmly, despite the fact that my chin was wobbling and my vision was getting blurry all over again. Tears pressed painfully at the corners of my eyes. His face was a pale smear of anger and what looked almost like defeat. "I'm not letting you go."

"I'll miss the flight," he said, gratingly. Sullenly, sadly, not wanting to see his face any more, I looked down at his arm, and at my hand clutching it. I could feel how his muscles were tensed against my grip. He'd always hated being close to people. I remember thinking that it would be the nice thing to do to at least give him some more personal space, but I was dead scared that if I stopped holding onto him, he would completely disappear. Still gazing intently at my fingers, I sniffed, and pleaded,

"Can't you wait just a little longer?"

"No," he said, his voice emotionless, stating a fact – but I've known him since I was a kid, and there was definitely something strange in his tone.

"Please?" I asked, desperately, my voice quavering. I suddenly realised that the whole 'I'm going to be brave and not cry' thing was pretty much dead. I gave a little hiccough, and it came out as a sob, and the next thing I knew, my cheeks were wet and warm as tear after tear squeezed its way out and dribbled down past my lips. Still clinging to his arm, I looked up at him, and saw his straight, thin lips, and his shadowy hair, and searched for the powerful, ruthless strength that was always hidden in his eyes, hidden somewhere behind the disdain and indifference – and met something completely different.

For one insane, shocked, I-think-I-should-be-on-medication second, I swear it looked like he was concerned. Then the world got even scarier, and the concern changed to…again, all it looked like was defeat, like he had been trying not to do something, but had done it anyway. He said, "Tyson," and the sadness in his voice made me drop his arm and practically leap back. Great. Now I was making him miserable. That was not what I'd had in mind.

"Hey, it's OK, man," I said, shakily, pressing my hands against my face and rubbing the tears away as hard as I could, then staring down resolutely at the floor. "Look, I just wanted to say goodbye, alright?"

"Goodbye," he said, his voice almost hoarse. His feet moved out of my range of vision, and I heard the clatter of the suitcase's wheels as they skittered across the flawless tiling. A tear dropped onto my hand, and, knowing that I was going to get seriously injured because of this, I dashed forward, flung myself at him from behind and threw my arms around him.

My nose found a warm, soft nest in his hair, and I pressed my face into his neck and cried as my arms locked themselves around his front, rising and falling with his breaths, which were surprisingly short and sharp, like he was cross. Great. Was he pissed with me?

OK, duh, Tyson. He's Kai.

His skin was warm through the tight cloth of his shirt. I knew that I was about to pummelled to a pulp, but I suddenly really wanted to stay with him. I hung onto him, feeling his neck and cheek heat up – he was blushing? – as the strands of hair pressed to my face grew steadily damper and damper as the tears kept flowing. I was shaking, I think. All I could do was cling to his warm, solid body, and pretend that he wasn't going to go away. If I tried hard, I could make it feel like it was just an ordinary day, and that I was hugging him not because he was leaving, but because I…because I…oh, hell…

His neck moved; he was turning his head. I moved my face up from his shoulder, and found myself with my forehead pressed against his, our noses touching. Trying to focus made me go cross-eyed and was giving me a headache, so I let my lids droop closed, hoping that I wasn't about to get thrown half-way across the hall. His mouth moving against my cheek, his breath tickling my jawbone, he said again, in a dark, quiet voice, "Goodbye, Tyson."

Then he had pulled away, and I was left staring at him walking away across the cold, white floor, while the grey, pale light of evening spilled through the clear air.

**Ereshkigali: **Kai, as usual, was OOC. Go ahead and flame me. Fire be pretty.

As I said before, **THIS WAS A FLASHBACK**. The next chapter will be set directly after Chapter One. I will hammer it in again next time, just in case you missed the big, bold letters, so don't worry.

Thanks to everyone who summoned up the considerable courage needed to review "Don't even ask". Yup, it was indeed written at 2 AM while a highly hyperactive cat (I swear, I have WAY too many of said fluffy entities floating around the house) hung onto my hair by its teeth. How did you guess?

PLEASE review! I just so happen to have a stash of Bakura plushies conveniently lying around…no, wait, I'm keeping all those for myself. How about this? A death-dealing, teeth-baring, havoc-wreaking kitty-cat with serious behavioural problems (but with a very high level of cuteness) to everyone who reviews!

**Random Evil Kitten:** You think THAT'S going to make them review!

**Ereshkigali:** Oh, go murder something else for a change. I'm going to bed.


	3. Voices from the Past

You will all be pleased to know that I have at last managed to conjure up what can definitely be called a plot. Yay for me! Oh, and yay for my reviewers! I do indeed love you all muchly.

**Just to clear things up,** this is setabout a year and a half, maybe a bit more,after GRev. The last chapter took place around five months before this one – so Kai, after having trained for three months in Russia, has been with Tyson, Hilary, Kenny and Daichi for the past two or so months. Max has been in America, and Rei has been in China, but this chapter will see the beginning of a reunion! Stay tuned for more!

This chapter is set almost immediately after the first one, and CONTAINS THE BEGINNINGS OF A SHONEN-AI RELATIONSHIP. Like it or leave.

I don't own Beyblade, and I'm making no money. All I'm actually doing here is indulging my _way_-too-active fangirl mind…

**Chapter Three**

**Voices from the Past**

The sun was setting, and we were walking home together, side-by-side, our slow footsteps scuffing the cool concrete of the sidewalk, our shadows falling blurred and stretched, drifting along beside us. My hands were jammed into my pockets, my left fingers curled comfortably around Dragoon, and every now and then my arm would brush at his. We'd been spending a lot of time together recently, and it had mostly been blading, but it had been fun. He's not a big talker, and I am, but we're used to that by now.

I'm still not over him just disappearing like that, though. Those were the worst three months of my life. I thought he was dead, for crying out loud! Every time the phone rang, I rushed to grab it. One part of me would hope that it was Kai, but another small, frightened part of me was terrified that it would be Tala's voice saying, "Tyson - there's been an accident…"

I used to make Daichi battle me every single day, in the hope that when Kai came back, I would be able to beat him with my eyes closed, and make him sorry that he'd ever tried to vanish on us. I used to get Kenny to look over Dragoon practically every other second, making sure that everything was in the best possible shape. I think I went slightly crazy. Not having my best friends around was one thing, but at least I knew where Maxie and Rei were, and heard from them on a regular basis. From Kai, I heard not a peep, and it was creeping me out.

Then he just turns up one day, a little before New Year, with a note from Mr Dickinson asking us to let him stay at the dojo. I had considered punching the dude out for that, I really had. He didn't even act like he'd done anything wrong – just waltzed in and acted like he owned the place. I didn't speak to him for _ages_.

Even so, we'd taken to hanging out more and more in the weeks since he'd come back. He still managed to demonstrate his utter contempt for me almost every time he opened his mouth, but I still managed to get under his skin almost every time I opened _my_ mouth, which was really, really satisfying. Annoying Kai should be an art form, it really should.

And now we were walking home in the last hazy warmth of the setting sun after a hard day of blading, a little wind blowing up around us and making me shiver.

"Man, I'm hungry!" I yawned, kicking at a pebble. "Can we get something to eat?"

"If you want," he said, tonelessly.

"Cool. This way!"

I ran on ahead a little way, cut across through an alley, and found that little corner shop I always visit. Believe me, I know where all the restaurants are. I ordered – well, just about everything on the menu – and sat down outside at one of the little tables opposite Kai, who had already snagged a seat and was leaning back in it. He must think he looks so cool like that, all nonchalant and devil-may-care and whatever. Well, he doesn't fool me anymore. I know for a fact that Kai is, deep down, just as human as anyone else. I have solid, undeniable _proof_. It involves what he said exactly three minutes and forty-one seconds before the New Year. I made a careful note of it so that I would be able to mark it down as an Historic Moment in Time.

Remembering it, I grinned, and dug into a plate of sausages. One of these days, when he'd completely forgotten every last sentimental and overemotional word he'd said, I would spring it on him and use it to blackmail him, and watch him squirm. That would be _fun_.

I looked up to see him sipping slowly at a bottle of spring water. His eyes met mine, and he frowned. "What are you smirking at?" he asked, resentfully.

I popped a handful of French fries into my mouth and chewed them thoughtfully. Should I tell him? Oh, why not? It would be good for a laugh. My mouth full, I said, "I have a secret."

"Good for you," he said, dourly, and took another small sip.

"It's a really, really embarrassing secret," I told him, gleefully. "Guess what? It involves you."

He went very, very still, and shot me this small, unreadable look across the table. Our eyes met for less than a second before he dropped his gaze and began to stare very intently at the plastic bottle. Stiffly, he said, "Oh?"

"Uhuh," I said, nodding. "Do you remember that little New Year's Eve party we had?"

He gave a small grunt, which I supposed meant 'yes'. I guess it would actually be kind of difficult to forget. I still don't know how Daichi managed to get to drunk.

"Do you remember what happened when Hilary sent you to find me?"

"You were asleep outside," he said, grudgingly. "For some stupid reason, she was afraid you'd miss the countdown."

"Yeah, well, that's what you thought. For your information, I was _not_ asleep!" I said, triumphantly swigging down some soda.

"What?" he asked, sharply.

"Aha! Oh, I've got you now, Kai!" I exulted. "Me and Daichi and Kenny had been playing hide-and-seek, remember? And I'd hidden out in the garden? And Hilary sent you to look for me 'cause I was going to be late? And that old cat from next door was hanging around, and you stopped to say hello to it?"

He was blushing furiously. Kai was blushing! This was too good. "Save it, Tyson. I'm not interested," he barked.

I grinned, and reached for the ice cream. "I think you will be. Let's see, now – you were talking to the cat, and I was hiding in that big old tree. I was right above you the entire time. Bet you didn't know that, hey?" I paused, enjoying how he was trying to keep his face straight, and said, between mouthfuls of chocolate sauce, "Does Kai wemember what he said to the wittle kitty-cat?"

"No," he said, firmly.

"Are you sure?" I goaded.

"Yes."

"Ah, now that's a shame. Luckily, I remember exactly what you said," I told him, and, fishing a cherry up from a pool of melted ice cream, popped it into my mouth.

"That's nice. Hurry up. We're going to be late," he said, and got up and began to stride off down the street. Heh. He was embarrassed! Well, after what he'd told the cat, I couldn't blame him…

I slapped the last of my allowance down on the table, grabbed at the milkshake's polystyrene cup, and ran after him, chuckling happily to myself. I said into his ear, "The first thing you said was, 'He's so annoying!'"

"Go away," he said, pulling his jacket closer around him and speeding up.

I darted after him, falling into step beside him. "Then you said, 'It's just like him to wander off. He's so inconsiderate.' Now, that's when I started to get cross, 'cause I figured you were going to be all rude again, but then you sat down, I think, and you started stroking the cat, and then you said, 'It's hard to believe that I actually missed him.'"

He kept his face turned carefully away, but his usually-pale skin was still fiercely pink even in the greyness of dusk.

I took a long, gurgling sip at my milkshake, and waited for the brain freeze to subside. I was drawing this out. I've always loved teasing him – I still do. Maybe it's a bit mean to get on his nerves so much, but you can bet that if he ever found something that really annoyed me, he would do it non-stop. He's so funny when he's pissed. I can look at him and see how he's trying to stop himself from half killing me – and at the same time, I know he'd never really hurt me. I used to be almost afraid of him, afraid of what he'd do for power, but these days, ninety per cent of the time I'm pretty sure that he doesn't _really_ hate me.

The other ten per cent?

That's when I just have to trust him blindly.

Luckily, I don't have a problem with that at all.

"Do you want to know what else you said?" I asked at last.

He said nothing.

I continued happily, "You said, 'Tyson's like that, though, I guess. He's the sort of person you have to like. He's loud and he's rude and he's immature, but he's loyal and caring and strong, as well. He never gives up.' Yes, Kai, you said that, and there's no point in denying it. You called me strong! I heard you!"

"Obviously I was drunk," he muttered.

I waved the milkshake around excitedly. "You admit it!" I yelled. "Finally! You _admit_ that I'm not useless!" I slurped at the remainder of the drink jubilantly before chucking the carton away into the nearest dustbin I saw. "Of course, you did say one _other_ thing," I said, after a while, wondering if I should bring it up.

"Don't say it," he said, warningly, looking up and realising that we were almost at the dojo. The relief in his face was obvious. Damn. Should I really mention this last bit? It had been pretty – well, intense. I hadn't really believed my ears when I'd heard him say it. I'd always figured that he hated me. It was weird to know that he actually did care, even if only the littlest bit – weird, and oddly comforting.

See, I care about him _a lot_. I mean, I'll think about him, and it'll feel like I really and truly could do anything he asked me to do – just for him. He's very special to me. I mean…gah. I can't explain it. I just…really, really like him. He's tough and headstrong and stubborn, but he's a good friend to me. I love his eyes. I love the way sometimes, just sometimes, after a really good battle, he'll give me this small, tired, wistful smile. It's so quiet and rare that it's almost like a secret between the two of us, like a special present he's been saving just for me, and it makes me feel dizzyingly, dazedly happy. I love how he'll just laze around for hours on the hillsides, chewing on a piece of grass and smiling up into the empty air. He looks so peaceful and happy then, and it's really nice to see him looking happy. It makes _me_ happy. I love how…oh, you get the point. There's a lot to love about Kai.

As we walked slowly through the gates, I said, quietly, "Yeah, well, it wasn't much. You just…you said that…that you liked how I never gave up, and that I'd never given up on you, and that you were never going to give up on me, either." We were standing on the front porch by this time, and I paused with one hand on the door, suddenly wanting to continue the conversation. Seeing that I had stopped, he turned to look at me, his arms crossed over his chest, defiance and determination on his face.

"What other nauseating comments did I reputedly make?" he asked, lifting his chin a little, keeping his gaze firmly on mine.

"Dude – you're shaking," I said, frowning.

"It's cold," he said, steadily.

"Yeah, but – not _that_ cold…and you've never complained before…"

"What did I say, Tyson?" he snapped, and this time there was a definite break in his voice. It kind of reminded me of that time at the airport, when I'd been saying goodbye to him, and I'd been so sure that I had heard defeat and almost disappointment in his voice. It was like – there! I had it. It was like he was cross with himself. That expression on his face was almost identical to the one he wore when he lost a battle. It was like he'd somehow betrayed himself…only this was much worse…

"Kai?" I asked, suddenly worried. My hand had shot out impulsively to rest on his upper arm, my fingers coming into contact with the cloth of his jacket, and unconsciously slipping under the sleeve just the littlest bit, so that I felt cold, smooth skin. "Kai, I'm sorry if I…it was just for a laugh…"

"What did I say?" he asked again, his voice low and intense.

I swallowed. "You said that you would always look out for me." He was shaking violently now, and my fingers were pressed deep into his arm. My throat was very dry as I spoke the final words in a whisper. "You said that you'd do anything for me."

"I would," he burst out in a strained, furious undertone, his eyes burning into mine. "If you don't know that by now then you're stupid, Tyson."

"You never said you would," I said, stupidly. I was suddenly feeling very jittery. Was that adrenaline shooting through my system? Why was my heart suddenly beating so quickly? I was horribly aware of my fingers still resting on his arm, but I didn't want to jerk them away, because that would look like I was embarrassed, and the only reason I would be embarrassed would be that I…

"So what?" he asked, fiercely, his eyes glittering darkly in the blue light of evening. His hand had leapt through towards my face, but stopped halfway, hanging in midair, trembling erratically. "You're…you…you're…Tyson…" His breathing shaky, his hand slowly moved further towards me, jerkily. His fingers brushed my jawbone with a whisper-soft touch that sent tickling, tingling sensations zipping through me, and then his hand was pressed up against my cheek, his thumb fitting snugly into the hollow under my chin, his little finger splayed across my lips. I could hardly breathe, I swear. The look in his eyes was electrifying: ferociously protective, and quietly, tenderly yearning. My entire body was bursting with fearful, dizzying delight. A small part of me was saying, "_What the_…?" The rest of me was fighting an insane urge to laugh my head off. I moved my hand further up his arm, finding the skin of his neck and stroking it gently with curved fingers, suddenly very much in love with how soft and cool he felt.

"Kai…" I began, not exactly sure in the slightest what I was going to say. "Dude, we…" His hand slipped into my hair, and I forgot how to talk. That same look was in his eyes – like he was disgusted with himself for being weak – but it was overshadowed by another look, one that was very like a painful, powerful hope. We had managed to get much closer together than I remembered having been before, and his other arm had somehow curled itself underneath mine, so that we were held loosely together, our bodies warm against each other, while the quiet, indigo twilight pressed in around us. I could feel his hot, quavering breaths brushing my lips, and I suddenly realised that if I didn't move now, something would be lost forever; I pushed my head forward in a sudden rush - and my lips met empty air.

His arms were rapidly pulling themselves back from mine, pushing me away from him insistently, desperately – and as I looked up, I saw why. Hilary, shadowed against the buttery-yellow light from within, had slid the door open, and was standing looking curiously at us.

"You're late," she said, sniffing indignantly. "And if I know Tyson, he's probably gone and spoiled his appetite with junk food…now he won't eat his dinner and it'll be all wasted…"

"Ah, Hil, you know me!" I said, way too brightly, forcing a laugh. "I'll eat anything and everything you put in front of me."

"Yes, well, that's probably true," she grumped, and glared at Kai, who was presumably standing behind me. I was too shaky to check. What the hell had been going on back there? Had we been about to…? If I ignored it, it would hopefully go away. Damn, that had been scary. "This is your fault, Kai. You should have made him come home sooner."

"It's not my fault he can't take care of himself," I heard him say caustically, and he padded past me through the door, having quickly removed his shoes. Hilary jumped back quickly as he passed, his scarf flaring out behind him, then grinned wickedly at me.

"Guess someone's in a bad mood," she said, chuckling. "Hey, come in, alright? You must be freezing. Plus, we've got a surprise for you!"

"Uh…what kind of surprise?"

I hadn't taken two steps inside when I was attacked by something excited and blond.

"Tyson!"

"Maxie!"

There was Max, my oldest friend, almost seventeen now, his smile as wide as ever. He punched me happily on the arm and ruffled up my hair. I threw my arms around him and had fun trying to strangle him. "It's so good to see you!" he squeaked.

"How come you're here?" I asked, releasing him. "I thought you were going to stay with your mom!"

"I was," he said. "But my dad just got this awesome new place by the sea, and he wanted me to come check it out, and I wanted to see you guys, so my mom said it was OK. She was really nice about it. Oh, this is going to be great!" He grinned up at me, laughed, and hugged me again.

"Why didn't you tell me in your e-mails?" I asked him over the top of his head.

"We wanted it to be a surprise," he explained.

"We?"

"Yeah, Rei as well – oh, I didn't _tell_ you!"

"Tell me what, you bonehead?" I almost yelled. "Where's Rei?"

"Oh, he's still in China, but he'll be flying in a couple days from now. We're going to meet him at my dad's place. That's the whole point, you see. I'm inviting all the Bladebreakers to come stay with us for the next few weeks! It'll be the best! It's this huge house, they just built it, and it's right near to the beach…"

"We're going on vacation!" Daichi shouted excitedly, bounding through the door and jumping up onto my back. What with Maxie hugging me from the front, and Daichi trying to pull my head off from behind, my legs kind of gave way, and we landed up in a bruised, tangled heap on the floor, laughing and fighting and yelling madly. I could hear Hilary sighing and tapping her foot, and I sat up, pushing Daichi off me, and said, "Hey, Hil, what was that about supper?"

"_Boys_,_"_ she muttered, and stomped off towards the kitchen. She's the sweetest little thing, she really is. Following her with my eyes, I saw Kai, leaning against the doorpost, and grinned across at him. I figured the sooner we forget whatever had almost happened out there, the better.

"Hey, Kai!" I called. "We're going on vacation!"

"So I heard," he said, acidly, showing no sign of anything except his usual scorn for anyone but himself.

"Ah, you can at least be a little excited about it!" Maxie said, pouting up at him. "Geez, Tyson. You still haven't managed to teach him to smile?"

"Nope," I said. "Hey, you need to be human to smile, remember?"

"Kai's not human?" Daichi asked, sitting up.

"'Course not, Daichi!" I told him. "He's an evilcloned mutant from beyond the solar system."

"Cool!"

Kai chose that moment to stomp off in a huff. Hey, I hadn't been expecting much else. He was Kai, after all.

"Same old Kai," Maxie sighed.

"Yup," I said happily, pushing Daichi off my foot. "Everything's back to normal."

**Yeah, I made use of Kai's little habit of talking to animals again.** You know, like how he ALWAYS talks to cats, and how there was that one very random shot of him hanging out with a camel when they were in Cairo? Hey, it's cute, and it made the plot go along more easily.

I know that I tend to describe Kai's smile a lot, and this is because my sister, who is deeply, deeply in love with him, shrieks with joy every time he does actually smile. So it's kind of stuck in my head…which is not a bad thing…because Kai smiling is very adorable…unbelievably adorable…absolutely unbelievably adorable…_ (brain dissolves into mush)_

The idea so far has been that the first two chapters were trying to set the basic tone and give a vague background, as well as mentioning details that would be important later on. Now the plot has begun to exist, and so things should actually start happening from here. I put a lot more effort into this chapter, and it's definitely been the best so far in my opinion, but it's not my opinion that counts – IT'S YOURS! Please feel free to tell me what you think of all this! Just click on the friendly little button at the bottom of the screen. All reviews be greatly appreciated!


	4. Midnight

**Kai:** Why are you still trying to write from my PoV? You screwed it up enough in _Tomorrow_.

**Ereshkigali:** The story needed you.

**Kai:** I'm truly flattered.

**Ereshkigali:** Enough to do the disclaimer?

**Kai:** Um, let me put it this way: no.

**Ereshkigali:** Fine. I will heave a theatrical sigh and do it myself. I will even give it its own little heading to make it feel better. Aren't I a nice little creature?

**Disclaimer, health warnings and other boring stuff**

I don't own any of the characters mentioned in this fic. I will not be held responsible for the scarring of anyone's mind, seeing as I am warning you right here and now about the fluff, shonen-ai, hopeless OOCness on Kai's part, and mild language ('damn', 'screwed up' and 'pissed off' are I think the worst you'll ever find me using). I am currently making absolutely zero money, whether off this fic or off anything else, so please don't sue me unless you are feeling particularly sadistic, as I would _not_ be able to afford a lawyer. Thanks. You are so kind.

**Chapter Four**

**Midnight**

I stepped into the shower. Cold, hard droplets of water thrummed down on my shoulders, streaming down my back and stomach, making me shiver furiously, setting my heart pumping. The bathroom was dark, as I hadn't wanted to wake anyone; the only light came from the soft, sodium glow of the streetlights outside the window. The others, after a long evening of food fights and reminiscences that I had ignored very determinedly, had finally gone to sleep.

It was midnight, and I had a headache.

Max had said that we were going on a vacation.

Vacations with the Bladebreakers involve a bunch of seventeen-year-olds behaving like toddlers, getting completely out of shape, eating enough to feed the population of an entire continent, and giving long, soppy speeches about how lucky they are to have each other as friends.

Vacations with the Bladebreakers do not involve getting any work done, getting any training in, or in fact doing anything that could at all be described as 'productive', 'useful', or even 'sane'.

This was not good.

Nor was what had almost happened outside that evening. Tyson and I had been talking, and he had been teasing me, and his hand had been on my arm, and his soft, dark eyes had been gazing at me worriedly, and I hadn't been able to control myself, and…

I was furious with myself for such weakness. I had long ago promised myself that I wouldn't ever let him know anything about what I felt for him. It had for the most part been easy, because I have never seen the need to tell anyone anything before. I don't see the point. He is happy to have me as his friend, and I am more than happy being his friend, and so that is what I will remain.

There have been a few times when I almost told him – on that day when, after defeating Brooklyn, I had collapsed into Tyson's arms, exhausted beyond anything I'd ever felt before – when we'd been lying side-by-side in the long, warm grass on the hill - when he had clung to me so desperately before I left for Russia…

I was surprised at how much I'd missed being with him. Tala is my oldest friend, and I value him highly, but Tyson is my closest companion. It's impossible to explain, or to describe fully. All I know is that in these years when we've been fighting together, he brought something new into my life – the ability to cry, to laugh, to let my mistakes go, to never give up. I found myself drawn to him, although at first it was by hate. I was unremittingly competitive. I was horribly, wildly jealous of him, hating him for having beaten me, despising him for his sloppiness, for his lack of maturity, for his naïve, almost imbecilic trust in everyone he met.

He was even stupid enough to trust me, and I betrayed him, taking the power that was offered me, abandoning him and his team. I betrayed him, showing nothing but indifference and scorn where he had showed only simple kindness and liking. I betrayed him, and in doing so, I came very close to death. I betrayed him, and he saved my life.

That is not something you can easily ignore.

I began to respect his tenacity, and, slowly, slowly, to allow myself to be touched by his ferocious loyalty. Somehow, gradually over the long years, the old, almost murderous jealousy became a stupid, infuriating admiration; the enmity became pure, blind trust; the hatred became fierce, relentless devotion. We were still rivals – we always will be rivals – but I looked up to him no end for his skill. We had somehow grown together. I found myself wanting to protect him, wanting to look out for him, wanting to spend time with him.

Eventually, I realised that I loved him – that for me, there would never be anyone else. There would only be Tyson, the reckless, loudmouth loser who had clumsily, irrevocably, devastatingly burst his way into my life, throwing my world into complete disarray, deciding that I was worth caring for, and sticking by me for all the years we'd known each other. Just like that – I had discovered someone worth fighting, and I had discovered someone worth fighting _for_.

I know that he sees me as a friend and nothing more, and I don't care.

I love him, and he doesn't love me, and _I_ _don't care_.

He is everything to me – brother, friend, inspiration, guide. He is unbelievably enthusiastic, his energy and his intensity sparkling brighter than anything else. I love him for his openness, for his readiness to laugh at himself, for his hotheadedness, for everything about him that is contradictory to what I am. He is everything that I'm not, and that only makes me love him more. I know that he would do anything for me, because that is who he is. Once he's given his word, he keeps it. He would never let me down. I know that, and I trust him as I trust no other.

For my part – I would do anything for him. It's as simple as that.

The only reason he doesn't see it is that I won't let him. I know that he doesn't love me, and I don't want to embarrass him. I don't want to lose him. I value him too much. He's the only one who really challenges me. I still enjoy battling him. I like going up against him. He knows me far too well by now, and it's gotten to be so that we can spend an entire battle knowing exactly what the other is going to do, reading each other's thoughts from no more than a look or a motion – but I like it. It makes it all the more difficult to beat him – and one thing I want more than anything else is to defeat him, to prove to him that I'm worth something.

I can't let him know. It would upset him, because I know that he doesn't think of me that way. I honestly don't mind, though. To be with him at all is enough.

I've always been embarrassed even to think things like this to myself. In the beginning, I was doubtful that I could trust anyone – even Tyson. I knew, both from teachings and from experience, that other people were not stable. They were potential failures. It was nothing personal – it was the simple, straightforward knowledge that they were weak and I was not. If you know that you're strong, and that everyone around you isn't, in whom will you place the most trust? It's logic. I got to the point where I didn't need anyone.

That is what absolute power is – when you are so strong that you can accomplish anything without needing anyone else. You are able to rely on yourself at all times, thinking only about what outcome will prove the best for you, with no complicated emotions or inexplicable personal loyalties getting in the way. You can do anything, and you don't need_ anyone_.

I still have trouble understanding how Tyson managed to completely break down this ideal. In a way, it doesn't make sense. By caring for someone as irresponsible and foolish as him, I should have weakened myself, should have lost my strength – but I didn't.

When you blade for someone import to you, you blade stronger than ever before.

Shaking these thoughts away, I curled my fingers around the tap and twisted it until the soft roaring of the water died away, and I was left standing shivering in the cold, echoing darkness, my hair plastered to my face, water dripping down my skin. My hands, shaking and shuddering, were pale and spindly. I picked my way across the bathroom, dried myself off, and, without bothering to put on a shirt, slipped back into the pair of old trousers I sometimes sleep in, rubbing at my hair until it was reasonably dry. Then I padded down the halls of the dojo to the room where we all slept, Kenny on a small camp bed in the corner, his head pillowed on his laptop, while Daichi, Max and Tyson packed themselves into the same bed, snoring away. I had long ago claimed the sofa, and pushed it up against the wall, as far away from the others as I could get. I lay down on it, silver-brilliant moonlight spilling everywhere, and turned onto my side, pulling the blanket over me. I was still very cold, but I didn't mind. Cold isn't so bad, once you're used to it, and I have been for the better part of my life.

There was a rustling noise behind me, and a thump, as though someone had tripped and fallen. There came a muffled grunt, and then footsteps could be heard coming closer across the room. Something poked me in the shoulder. "Hey! Kai! You awake?" a voice whispered.

I jerked away from his touch, my eyes staring wildly into the darkness. Oh, great. It was Tyson. I'd purposely avoided talking to him all evening, operating on the theory that, given his attention span, which is minute to the point of being almost non-existent, he would have forgotten my little lapse of sanity by morning. Now he was obviously coming to confront me about it. "What do you want?" I snapped in an undertone. "I'm trying to sleep."

"Yeah, and we all know that you _really_ need your beauty sleep, Kai my man, but I need to talk to you about something," he whispered.

"Can't it wait?" My heart was thumping. I did not want to talk about this.

"No," he said, simply. "It's kind of important."

Clenching my fists and gritting my teeth in annoyance, I turned onto my back and, staring at the ceiling, said, "Tyson, it's late, and I'm tired. Go away."

"But Kai…"

"Now, Tyson."

"Dude, it's just a simple little question!"

"I don't want to know!" I almost shouted. Across the room, Max stirred and mumbled. In a hushed voice, I said, "Tyson, go to sleep."

"No! I don't have to take orders from you!"

"This isn't an order," I hissed. "This is me telling you get off my case before I throw you halfway across the room. Got it?"

"Geez, what did I _do_?" he sighed. "I just wanted to ask if you were going to come to Maxie's with us or not!"

"Yes, I am," I said, something like relief filling me. "It'll be a good opportunity to blade against Rei. I haven't faced him in a long time."

I could hear him groaning. "Kai, this is about having fun, not _practising_!" he said.

"Fun, as you call it, is a waste of time."

"It's a vacation! You're _supposed_ to have fun!"

"Just go away."

"Not until you promise me that you won't treat this as another training stint."

"It's not your concern."

"'Course it is," he said, cheerfully. "You're my friend, aren't you? So I'm very concerned."

"Zip it and go to bed."

"Nothing doing." He plonked himself down at the foot of the sofa, effectively beginning to cut off the circulation in my feet. I continued to gaze determinedly at the ceiling. "You are going to make me a sacred promise, Kai, and you're going to do it now!"

"I don't have time for this puerile nonsense."

A small, hot hand, calloused with years of Beyblading, grasped at my own, and pulled me up into a sitting position. Something shot through me, and my chest tightened, my heartbeat quickening. I loved the feel of his skin. I always have. Gripping my hand firmly, as though we were about to arm-wrestle, Tyson, his face lit with the diamond-like glitter of the moon, smirked triumphantly, and began to intone in a deep and mock-serious voice, "_Kai Hiwatari hereby declares_…come on, Kai, this is an all-powerful oath! _Kai Hiwatari hereby declares that when on vacation with his team-mates, he will dedicate himself whole-heartedly to the great and noble arts of_…of relaxing, goofing off and having a good time!"

"Give me a break," I grumbled, forcing myself not to smile at him. What is it about him? He's only a little over a year younger than me, but sometimes it feels like it's much, much more. He's so over-the-top and funny and kind. He's…_nice_. He'll complain and he'll moan and he'll get in my face and piss me off no end, but he always ends up making me want to laugh. Sometimes, when I'm standing by myself, away from the others, watching them yell and laugh and argue, he'll look over at me and flash me this annoying grin. It makes him look incredibly full of himself, but it also tends to make something inside me squirm with this helpless, overwhelming _liking_, and an almost painful desire to be with him, to laugh at his jokes, to let him know I love him…

_Stop it_, I reprimanded myself angrily. _It's not fair to him. Don't _do_ this, Kai._

I decided I should stop living in the past.

"_Dost thou swear it_?" he was asking, waggling his free hand in a manner I can only assume he thought was mysterious and awe-inspiring.

"No," I muttered.

"Yeah, well, 'no' is close enough to 'yes'…" he grinned. "See? Now you have to have fun!"

"Don't count on it," I warned him, pulling my hand away from his. I couldn't handle touching him. It made me weak. It made me feel things that would only lead to both our lives getting screwed up. It also made thinking clearly a serious challenge.

He stuck his tongue out at me. "You," he said, "are a spoilsport."

"You," I said pointedly, "are sitting on my feet."

"Hey, I guess I am," he realised. "You don't have a problem with it, do you?"

"Get off."

"I don't want to. My legs are tired."

I looked at him, sitting cross-legged in the moonlight, his untidy hair spilling everywhere, the biggest grin I'd ever seen plastered across his face, and felt that sweet, stupid, heart-rending mix of infuriation and wistful, wondering joy that I have only ever known around him. His caught me looking at him, and immediately began staring back, pulling a face and scrunching up his nose. I looked away with a scornful sigh.

"Hah! Staring competition! I win!" he yelled.

"A staring competition is the only thing you'll ever beat me in if you keep bunking off training," I told him, smugly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he spluttered.

"It means that you came very close to losing today."

He glared at me offendedly. "You can't say that! That was a tie, fair and square."

"Our next battle won't be," I warned him, coolly.

"Yeah, 'cause I'll win."

I snickered unkindly. "Delusional as always."

"Delusional?" he squeaked.

"That's what I said, genius."

"How can you call me delusional?"

"Very easily, actually," I said. "But I could just as easily call you 'moronic', if you'd like."

"OK, that does it!" he yelled, and launched himself at my throat. His full weight covered me, his hands pushing and punching me. I flung my arms up across my face in defence, grappling at his wrists and holding them as tightly as I could. His legs were kicking at mine furiously, one knee slipping over my hip. "You – " he was panting in my face, his voice laced with equal parts anger and laughter, "are – _so_ dead - Hiwatari – you -"

"Tyson?"

From across the room came Max's voice, blurry and thick with sleep. I froze instantly, feeling Tyson's heart thudding against my bare chest, my hands wrapped around his, our legs entwined, his hair hanging loose in my face. All of a sudden, I was very aware of what this _looked_ like…and Max had never in his life been able to keep a secret…

"Tyson?" his voice called again. I didn't dare try look over to him; I was holding my breath, squeezing my eyes tightly closed, keeping as still and as silent as though I were still the Abbey, all those years ago, waiting proudly for instruction, seeking out all fear and eliminating it utterly… "Tyson? Where are you, pal?" There was a moment's silence, and then a fond little sigh. I could hear him muttering the words, "Probably…midnight feast again…stupid…typical…"

Tyson's forehead was pressed to my chin, our hands clutched together tightly. Slowly, his arms sank down to my shoulders, and my palms covered his fingers, holding them there tightly, afraid to touch him, but afraid to let go. I was both shivering with nervousness and yearning to hold him closer. I could hear my own heartbeats, wild and ragged, in my ears. His breaths were tickling my throat, and his hair, was everywhere, and he was getting _very_ heavy. For what seemed like forever, we waited, until at last we heard Max's faint, steady snores begin again. Then I hissed into Tyson's hair, "Alright, now get off."

He gave a small grunt, and yawned, and snuggled up against my chest, his nose nuzzling my neck gently, tiredly. Already tingling with longing and apprehension, something inside me shivered, sighed, and melted into warm, dazed happiness. Trying to keep my voice steady, I said, in a low, earnest voice, "I'm warning you, Tyson."

He looked up, blinking at me in the moonlight. "Hey, Kai. What are you doing here?" he asked, grinning sheepishly.

I grabbed one of his fingers and began twisting it back, suddenly desperate to get away from him before I could do something stupid. "Get off."

He bit his lip and screwed up his face as I pulled his finger farther and farther back. "No," he said.

"Get off or I'll break your finger."

"You wouldn't do that, Kai. You know you wouldn't."

I looked up at him, and released his finger, raging inwardly at myself. Trying to turn the tables, I said, belligerently, "Why don't you _want_ to get off?"

"'Cause I'm comfy here," he said, folding his arms across my chest, placing his chin on his hands and staring down at me with the biggest eyes I have ever seen. "What? Am I scaring you, Kai? Is poor Kai afwaid of scawy Mister Tyson?"

"Could you at least _act_ like you're an adult?" I snapped, my throat suddenly obstructed by a deep, reckless love for him. His stupid, childish inadequacies and flaws were what made him Tyson, and Tyson was perfection.

"Hey, I'm not even one yet. I'm not eighteen for _ages_ still," he said, reasonably. "If you can't have fun when you're seventeen, when can you?"

"Do you ever stop talking?"

"Hmm," he said, pursing up his lips and attempting to look thoughtful, which only made me feel weaker and more in love. "Not that I know of."

His hair, still hanging in my face, and his bright, teasing eyes, and his mock-thoughtful expression, and above all that free, undaunted spirit that soared with his every motion…everything about him was making my senses blur and dim. I felt as though I were full almost to bursting with proud, shivering, melting adoration for him, for the stupid, almost-unbeatable kid who had turned my world upside down. I could feel my arms slipping up around him, my hand stroking the smooth, warm curve of his neck. He jerked a little in surprise, but then relaxed. He wasn't smiling; he was looking down at me with a curious expression on his face, sad, but almost eager. Fully aware that if he didn't leave _now_, I was going to do something for which I would later want to kick myself, I whispered slowly, "Go _away_."

"Why?" he asked, his voice low, and almost disappointed. "Kai…don't you…?" he broke off, looking down at me helplessly. The sadness in his face somehow devastated me. Feeling defeated, I let my arms close around him, and pulled him down to lie against my chest, holding his strong, slim body to me, pressing my cheek to his hair, breathing in the warm, sleepy scent of his skin. He was just a kid, I told myself desperately, just a stupid, over-confident kid who had somehow forced his loud, unmanageable, chaotic way into my heart…his arms tucked themselves behind my neck, and he wriggled on top of me slightly to get more comfortable, and sighed. Tingles were racing through my body. I was certain I was trembling.

"Just promise me you'll shut up," I growled at him.

"Ten-four, commander," he said, and I could feel him grinning into my neck. "Whatever you say."

I fell asleep listening to his breathing.

* * *

I woke suddenly, my eyes jolting open to stare at the ceiling. My chest, I realised with growing horror, was constricted by some weight that rose and fell with gentle snoring sounds, and someone's legs appeared to be tangled with my own, and surely those were _arms_ wrapped around my neck…?

_Who…?_

I've never liked touching people. It's too personal, too intimate. It meant that someone else was getting _close_ to me. I have no weaknesses, I've always told myself. It's others who create them. If someone was _touching_ me…

I looked down, saw a dark-haired head nestled into the hollow of my shoulder, a hand cupped on my chest, and remembered.

My entire body flooded with sweet, mindless wonder. I returned to staring at the ceiling, but let my arms slide around him again, my fingers slipping into his hair, stroking the smooth, curving line of his spine, feeling his warm, soft skin against mine. He was so beautiful and strong and devoted, and he was mine, mine to hold, mine to protect, mine to watch over forever.

Before I could lose myself in the rush of warmth and joy, I forced myself to focus on the world around me. The light seeping into the room was still grey-green and watery, and a few birds were still singing loudly, so it couldn't have been much past dawn. If I listened carefully, I could pick up at least two different breathing patterns coming form the far side of the room; I hazarded a guess at three. I could hear very little traffic noise from outside. I concluded that it was still very early, which was good. I wasn't sure how the others would react if they saw Tyson and me…together like this…and I didn't want to find out.

He stirred, muttered something unintelligible, and looked up, blinking, his chin digging sharply into my chest. He yawned, sniffed, and said, "Stupid."

I had absolutely no idea what to say. Watching him drag the heel of his palm across one eye, I opened my mouth to say something crushing and cruel, or at least brisk and witty, but the words wouldn't come. I couldn't even formulate anything vaguely coherent. I'd rarely before been at a loss for words. I just stared up at him in silence, his eyes gazing down curiously into mine. At last, I said, quietly, "Hello."

He tilted his head to one side and considered me for a moment. Then, stooping his head, his features blurring for a moment, he gently touched his nose to mine before drawing back only the tineist bit."Well, hello to you," he said, grinning. "What am I going to get for this? Seventy sit-ups and ten laps around the block?"

"Consider yourself lucky if you do," I muttered, my heart beating dazedly in my throat.

"Hey, uh, Kai, you've got that look on your face again," he observed nervously.

"The one that is a precursor to serious violence?"

"Yeah, I'd say that was the one – should I be running?"

"Yes."

He ran, practically skipping out the door. It was cold without him, I suddenly realised: cold, and lonely, and empty. I sat up, looking, as I always did, for Dranzer, lying safe on the small table beside the couch, nestled in the folds of my scarf. I reached out and caught the small, cold blade into my hand, holding it tightly, feeling the sleeping fire within, and, drawing my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around my legs, stared at the door, thinking of Tyson.

_I shouldn't love him._

He was only being friendly. Tyson was a friendly person. Being friendly was what he did. He was just being nice.

_It's not fair to him._

How could I betray that niceness, that care, and let him see the whole, futile, hopeless truth? He would feel guilty, knowing that I loved him, and that he couldn't love me back, and that would make him miserable, and our friendship would become strained, and then ruined, as our conversations fell into silence and our touches became awkward…

_How can I _not _love him?_

I had to pretend that there was nothing there – I couldn't let him see…because I loved him, I would have to stop loving him.

_It's not fair._

Nothing ever was fair…but I had to do it. I could do it - for _him_.

_I shouldn't love him – but I do._

He would never know.

* * *

**Yup, that 'zip it' bit was indeed ripped off** from Episode 40 of the first series, _Hot Battle in a Cold Town_, which I've recently managed to get hold of. I'm sorry, I love that one quote - Kai and Tyson are arguing, and Rei says that it sounds like they're married! I'd completely forgotten about it, and I shrieked with glee when I heard it again. TyKa has taken over my brain… _(starts to drool)_

Ahem.

ALL THOSE WHO REVIEW GET TYSON CLONES! (_drags Tyson kicking and screaming into convenient evil cloning machine constructed from music theory homework, two erasers and a large amount of thumbtacks)_ REVIEW!


	5. A Single Breath

**Kai:** Well, hey there. Haven't seen you around for a while. Got any grey hairs yet?

**Ereshkigali:** Very funny. I was stuck on this chapter. This is, I think, the sixth draft of it…or it could be the fifth. I'm too traumatised by recent experiences in the dark and terrible realms of trigonometry to remember how to count properly. Numbers hate me – that's all there is to be said.

**Kai:** Uh…aren't you going to make some sort of grovelling apology to all the nice readers out there before they do something evil to you?

**Ereshkigali:** Yes! I am indeed! Thank you all SO MUCH for your wonderful reviews. It rocks to know that people actually read this. I'm really sorry for the delay. I'll try not to let it happen again.

**Disclaimer**

I'm too bored to think of an original way to say it this time, so I'll just let you know that I own none of the characters or brands mentioned in this fic, which, incidentally, contains shonen-ai, mild language, clichés, and a near-death experience. I put in the Truth or Dare game because my two friends and I were playing it the other day after school, and it was really fun. No anime characters were harmed in the making of this fic…well, not many, anyway…

**Chapter Five**

**A Single Breath **

OK, you know what?

It was nice house.

And when I say nice, I mean _nice._ There was this huge TV, and this amazing training hall that looked out over the ocean that they'd had built just so that Maxie could blade whenever he wanted, and a really cool kitchen, and…

Hey, you get the point. Plus, it was literally right by the beach.

Even though it was raining, I was still in a good mood. The sea was all rough and stormy-grey, and the air was cold, but kind of refreshing. After sitting stuffed in a little car for two hours, my grandpa dropped us off just outside the house. Kai gave me one poisonous look, then stomped off towards the beach. Guess he was going to go stare at some grains of sand and maybe traumatise a seagull or two. Yeah, well, good for him. We were ignoring each other again.

Why?

None of your business.

OK, fine. I'll spill. So first the guy almost kisses me, and then we end up _asleep in each other's arms_? And then he just kicks me off him at 5 AM and acts like nothing ever happened? Now maybe it's just me, but that has _got_ to be a sign that the dude needs a serious attitude adjustment. So that morning after breakfast, as we were getting ready to leave, I'd cornered him. I was really nice and polite and cool and all, and I only yelled a bit…well, maybe more than a bit…and I started out by telling him that it was actually a pretty simple situation. I wanted to know

a) if he had suddenly gone crazy, and if he hadn't then

b) what his problem was,

c) when exactly he had been made ruler of the universe,

d) if he was ever going to start treating me like a human being, and also

e) just who the heck did he think he was anyway?

And the guy blows up in my face. How's that for nice? And, I mean, seeing as he started it, what could I do but do a lot of yelling of my own? So then he started saying how _some things_ were just stupid and pointless, and I started saying how maybe _some things_ did actually matter, and he told me to drop it, and I said that if he thought I was ever, _ever_ going to drop him then he needed a brain transplant, and…

Yeah. Hey, what's the point in going through the whole horrible thing again, right? Basically, it just got worse and worse, until eventually he stormed off. I was actually feeling kind of bad about it as I stared after him, his scarf billowing out around him in the fresh morning air, but no way was I going to apologise first. Then again, Kai apologising is not something that happens often, so it looked like we wouldn't be talking for quite a while still.

Anyway, I grabbed his suitcases, grabbed my own, and hurried after the others, who had already rung the doorbell.

Rei answered it. I totally wasn't expecting to see him. I'd figured it'd be Maxie's dad meeting us, so it was a pretty nice surprise to see him standing there, grinning at us. "Well, hey there, guys," he said. "I was beginning to think you weren't…"

He didn't get much farther than that, seeing as Maxie pounced on him and hugged the living daylights out of him. Heh, no surprises there. Maxie is Maxie, after all.

"It's so good to see you!" he yelled into Rei's ear. "I thought you weren't going to arrive till tomorrow!"

"I had a change of plans," he shrugged, smiling, peering at us through a mass of blond hair. "Um, Maxie, I kind of need to breathe here…"

"Let the nice Rei go, Maxie," Kenny suggested, nervously.

Maxie obliged, still grinning madly. Dropping my bags, I tackled Rei in turn. "How's it going, Tyson?" he asked.

"Great!" I responded. "You ready to see if I can still beat you with my eyes closed?"

"What he means is, he can't wait to lose to me again," Daichi informed the world smugly.

"Hey, that was one time, OK?" I protested, letting Rei go and preparing to do some serious Daichi-damage. "It's not like it counted!"

"You're just a sore loser," Daichi said.

"Oh, yeah? Well, you're just an overgrown bug with an attitude problem, Daichi – Daichi! Get back here!" The little numbskull had just brushed past Rei and trotted off down the hallway! One of these days I'm going to have to teach him some manners. What are you supposed to do with someone like that? Whatever happened to respecting one's elders or whatever? Figuring that if it worked in the movies, it should work anywhere, I shouted, "Hey! You! Yeah, I'm talking to you, punk!"

"Where's the food, Maxie?" he called over his shoulder, completely ignoring me. "I'm starving."

"Daichi!"

"Ignore them," Hilary said to Rei, sighing. "Tyson's just in a bad mood 'cause he and Kai aren't talking."

"Hang on," Rei said, frowning. "Kai and Tyson are fighting?"

"Yup," Maxie nodded.

"Um…again?"

"Yup!"

"It's a psychological complex that I'm quite interested in analysing, actually," Kenny piped up. "The closer they become, the more they argue. I've been meaning to…"

"Oh no," I broke in. "No shrinks for me. Yo! Daichi! Found the food yet?"

"It's nice to know some things always stay the same," Rei sighed. He was trying to sound annoyed, but he was totally smiling. I looked at the four of them, suddenly really glad to have them with me: the greatest friends I could ever have.

"The two great loves of Tyson's life _are_ eating and annoying Kai," Maxie pointed out, sagely.

"Uhuh," Hilary agreed, a little tiredly. "That's the Tyson we know and, well…occasionally manage to put up with."

"Thank you, thank you very much," I drawled, bowing to them as though to an audience. "Yeah, yeah, I know you love me." Catching Rei's eye, I pouted and winked at him seductively. He dissolved into helpless laughter, clutching at Maxie for support.

"There is something very wrong with you, Tyson," he choked between laughs.

"I'll say," Maxie agreed, giggling crazily.

"Ice cream!" Daichi called from somewhere down the hall.

"Where? Where?" I asked, dashing off after him, leaving the others to look after the bags. Hey, ice cream is ice cream and therefore sacred. What can I say?

It was going to be a good vacation.

* * *

The first thing we did was turn on the TV. I can't even remember what we ended up watching. I think I'd seen it before, anyway, and everyone was talking, and there was a very large bowl of popcorn floating around, which of course was totally distracting. Kai still hadn't shown up. Big surprise there.

Stuffing a handful of popcorn in my mouth, I said, "So your dad's not here, then?"

"Yeah," Maxie said. "I was kind of hoping to see him, but it's only for the week, right? Plus, that means we get the house to ourselves!"

See, it turned out that Maxie's dad had let Rei in that morning and then dashed off on a business trip. He's been a pretty busy guy for the past year. He got a job at this major Beyblade manufacturing company just after the World Championships, and he got promoted pretty quickly. He's kind of an important guy at the moment. Last I heard, he was the Senior Executive of the company's Technological Research Department, or something.

"He said he'd call as soon as he got to Johannesburg," Rei said, poking Daichi with the remote and grabbing the popcorn bowl.

"Quiet! He's about to fall in love with her!" Hilary protested. I checked out the TV screen. Some chick was making out with the guy who'd been trying to save the world for the past hour. OK, now even I'd seen _that_ coming.

"Ew! Gross!" Daichi complained. "When does he start blowing up that evil dude again?"

"Shut up!" Hilary insisted, just as the movie cut to a commercial break.

"Rei, pass the popcorn," Maxie whined.

"No. It's mine," Rei replied happily.

"Rei!"

"Ooh! Look! Wow! Look at that!" I yelled, pointing out the window. They actually looked, and I grabbed the popcorn bowl while they were at it. Suckers.

"That's not fair!" Maxie complained.

"Whatever happened to your sense of honour, Tyson?"

"Aha!" I mumbled, crunching contentedly. "Popcorn! My source of power!"

What did Maxie do on his high and valiant quest for junk food?

He jumped on me.

He wrestled me off the sofa and onto the floor. We landed on the carpet, which skidded away across the tiled floor with our momentum. Naturally, the popcorn went flying all over the place. Slipping and sliding on the spinning carpet, laughing maniacally and fighting for breath, we banged into something - _hard_. The something fell on top of us, making a slight "Oompf!" of protest, knocking my elbow hard against the floor. The end result? One good, old-fashioned pile-up! Hurray for insanity. I got a foot in my face. Painful, but fun.

Maxie said from somewhere on top of me, "Are we dead yet?"

Kenny was squeaking something like, "Butter! Salt and butter _on my laptop!_ This can't be happening!"

"What would the world do without popcorn?" Rei asked, chuckling. "Guess you just walked in at the wrong time, hey, Kai?

Hilary said, "Shush! This is the best part!"

I could hear Daichi laughing like a lunatic, and made a mental note to kill him as soon as possible.

I sat up, which was difficult, seeing as Maxie was kind of sitting on top of me, and looked down at Kai, who was lying tumbled on his back, his arms crossed, scowling up at the two of us murderously. Maxie, wriggling around until he could drape his arms heavily across my shoulders, said, "Kai! Buddy!"

"What?" Kai snapped, his face a little flushed, his hair in a complete mess. I was halfway between wanting to laugh insanely, and to get up and ignore him, just to teach him a lesson for being so evil that morning. "Got any more circus tricks?"

"Neah, not right now," I said, brightly, suddenly realising that the desire to laugh had won hands down. He actually looked kind of funny, his hair ruffled up and spread across my knees, his scarf tangled around Maxie's foot, his eyes squinting a little in an effort to focus on us. I nudged his head with my knee very, very gently, and kind of tilted my head as I looked down at him, like I was asking a question, giving him a huge I-want-world-peace smile. What I was trying to say was, _Hey, sorry, dude. Forgive me?_

"Oh, and I was _so_ looking forward to a disappearing act," he muttered, snorting softly, letting his eyes slide scornfully away from my own as the lids drifted lightly closed. I knew what that meant. It meant, _As if I could be bothered to waste my time on forgiving _you.

For a moment, it made me mad – and then I decided that there was no way I could stay cross with him. He was too stubborn and proud and obnoxious for me to hate him – and, right then, he was too…I don't know…is 'cute' the right word? He was sprawled untidily on the floor, with Maxie and me beaming down at him, and he was _still_ trying to pull the whole loner act. Is that cute? Gah, I sound like some weirdo chick with a crush. Kai isn't cute. It's just that, even if he is mean and cold-hearted and all the rest of that stuff, he's still really likeable, in some seriously twisted way. "You know you look funny when you're upside-down and covered in popcorn?" I asked him.

"Neah, he just looks funny all the time," Maxie said, comfortably, poking my neck.

"I am not funny," Kai said, stiffly.

Maxie and me? We looked at each other, tried not to laugh, looked at each other again, and cracked up. Hey, I think we were hyper, OK? He buried his face in my shoulder, giggling hysterically. I just grinned down at Kai, who opened an eye, closed it, and shook his head slightly, as though he had given up on our sanity. Nope, I was definitely not mad at him anymore.

"OK, that's enough," Rei said, getting off the sofa, stomping across the room and firmly pulling Maxie and me to our feet. "There's popcorn _everywhere_."

"There is?" Maxie asked, still smiling rather scarily.

"Oh, dear," Rei sighed, towing him back to the sofa. I looked down at Kai, who was still lying in the rumpled carpet, littered with popcorn, his scarf twisting around in loops. He could have been asleep. It was like we weren't there at all. I knelt down next to him, grains of popcorn digging into my knees. The others were back to watching the movie; they weren't even looking at us anymore, and we were also pretty much out of their line of sight, seeing as Maxie's little joy-ride on the carpet had pushed us behind the big armchair that Kenny had bagged for himself. Also, they all seemed kind of preoccupied. The guy in the movie had finally gotten around to blasting the rest of the aliens. Sounded fun. I looked back at Kai. I suddenly didn't want to touch him, not after how he'd reacted that morning, so I just said, kind of quietly, "Dude?" and then waited. People tell me I'm impatient, but for Kai, I could have waited a lifetime just to get a one-word answer. Look, he's the closest friend I've ever had. He means a lot to me.

At last, he heaved this annoyed sort of sigh and opened his eyes, slowly. "What?" he asked. His voice was all quiet, but his teeth were clenched, and he was _so_ looking daggers at me. Kai looking daggers at you is a scary, scary thing, people, believe me. Nevertheless, I held out a hand.

"Come on," I said, softly. He took my hand, sitting up, his eyes level with mine, his hair falling wildly across his face. I squeezed his fingers, warmly, smiling cheerfully, and asked, "Friends?"

He glowered at me from behind his bangs, but said, grudgingly, "I guess."

"Good," I proclaimed, getting to my feet, pulling him with me. "Want to watch the movie?"

"No," he said, pulling his hand away from mine, brushing popcorn from his hair, straightening his jacket self-consciously.

But he came and squeezed onto the sofa next to me with the rest of us, and together we watched the good guy defeat the dictators, get the girl, and end up living happily ever after with a couple best friends and a whole lot of cash. Clichéd? Yeah, I guess, but so what? I like happy endings.

* * *

I said before it was raining, right? Now, normally, you don't get changed into your swim shorts and go running around on the beach when it's _raining_. Normally, you stay inside like a normal person. But after the movie ended, Maxie said, "I want to go swimming!"

I said, "But it's freezing out there!"

Rei said, "So?"

Daichi said, "You guys are crazy!"

Hilary said, "Hey, why not? Walking along the beach in the rain. Could be fun."

Kenny said nothing until Maxie pried the laptop out of his hands. Then he mumbled something about weather patterns and hypothermia and meteorology…or something…

Kai said, "Whatever."

So, by majority vote, we ended up shivering on the wet sand, getting totally soaked, playing Truth or Dare.

OK, so it wasn't actually raining. It was more like this really soft, really fine drizzle. The droplets floated down, all silvery and iridescent, and the sky was kind of fuzzy and grey. We made a sort of tent out of the three picnic blankets and huddled together underneath them a little way down the beach – which, of course, was totally deserted. Duh. Not like anyone else was going to show up and have fun freezing to death. It was actually pretty peaceful, just sitting in the cold sand with the soft, salty breeze blowing through my hair, listening to the endless murmuring sounds of the waves, and enjoying the very happy sight of Maxiestammering out thedeep, dark answers to Rei's slightly disturbing questions.

"You know, when Rei's in charge, picking Truth is _not_ the easy way out," he was saying mournfully.

"Are you _sure_ that's all you two did?" Rei grinned. "Not holding anything back, are you? You have to tell the truth, you know."

"That's it, I swear!" Maxie yelled. "Geez, Rei, why are you so interested in my love life, anyway?"

Daichi asked, sounding kind of awe-struck, "You really did all that, Max?"

"Yes! OK? I did! It's not _that_ big a deal."

"Whoa. Was she hot?"

"Can we just get over this?" Maxie burst out.

"I think someone's blushing," I sang. "Heh, Maxie, bet the chicks back in America _love_ you. I bet you've got, like, a _million_ fans."

"OK, that's enough!" he snapped. "It's my turn, anyway, Tyson. Truth or Dare?"

"Dare for me, please!" I chirped. "Go on, Maxie. Do your worst. I can handle it."

"Hah! Ah, you're going to regret this one, Tyson." He pointed down across the grey waves to a rock in the water maybe twenty metres from the shore. "See that? I dare you to swim there and back – naked."

I practically fell over. "_Naked?_" I yelled.

"Naked?" Hilary gasped. "Max! I'd never survive the sight!"

"Gee, thanks," I pouted.

Maxie considered this. "OK," he relented. "Not naked."

"You mean I still have to do it?"

"'Course!"

"Heh, you know, that water looks awfully cold…"

"I think someone's chicken."

"Hey!"

"Tyson, we don't have all day here."

"But…"

"No buts."

"But, guys!"

"Tell you what – do it, and the rest of the marshmallows are yours."

I stopped in the middle of trying to escape Maxie's death-grip. "Is that a promise?" I asked, suspiciously.

"Yep," Rei nodded.

"Well, in that case…" I pulled off my jacket and began walking down towards the waves, shivering in my little swim shorts. Hey, that's bribery for you.

I put a toe in the water, and considered faking a fainting fit. My teeth chattering, hugging myself tightly, I shuffled around to face the others, gleefully watching from a little way up the beach. "It's cold!" I called.

"We know, that Tyson!" Rei called back. "Quit stalling!"

I glared at them. Daichi was _gloating_, the little runt. How dare he? Hilary and Rei and Maxie were all laughing their stupid heads off. I was going to get them for this, I really was. Kai…heh, he was sitting a little way away from the others, totally ignoring what was going on, as usual. Shooting one last look at Maxie, and making it as evil as I possibly could, I waded out into the water.

OK, so once you get after the first bit of cold, it's really not _too_ bad…alright, I'm lying. It was _freezing_. It felt like the water was burning me – that's how cold it was. But my legs started to get numb after a bit, and although that probably wasn't a good thing, it did mean that it wasn't so cold anymore. I was up to my chest by that time, and just more than a quarter of the way out towards the rock. Maxie had said that it didn't get _too_ deep there, and the whole stretch of water was sheltered from any dangerous currents, so there wasn't really anything that could go wrong, right?

I guess I'm OK at swimming and whatever. Hiro taught me when I was a kid. Not like I'm super fast or anything, but I know what I'm doing. So I kicked off against the hard-packed sand, ducked my head under, and began swimming. Kicking steadily, I took three strokes, slow and regular, then turned my head to breathe with the fourth. Three more strokes…breathe…three more strokes…breathe…_Nothing to worry about…just keep counting, and ignore the cold, and you'll be there in no time…damn it, Kinomiya, you sound like _Kai. _All rational and calm. Scary._

Three strokes…breathe…

I stopped to take a rest, treading water, looking around. Turned out I was only a few metres away from the rock. I paddled over to it and hauled myself up the shiny, slippery sides, grazing my knee a little, the wind whipping around me and making me shiver even more. Balancing carefully, I turned around, bruising my feet on the tiny limpets clinging to the seaweed-covered stone, and shouted back to the small figures on the beach, "Alright! Eat that, Maxie!"

I heard a whoop from Rei. Hilary appeared to be clapping her hands. Maxie shouted, "Yeah, yeah, your head's already too big. Come back!"

"Look out below!" I crowed, and jumped off into the water, prepared to swim back. I was used to the cold by then, so I didn't bother hurrying, but instead ducked down, under the waves. The water wasn't deep at all – barely three metres, and it was pretty clear, despite the rough weather. I couldn't keep my eyes open for too long at a time, seeing as the salt hurt. It didn't really matter, seeing as staring at sand gets boring pretty quickly. I closed my eyes and just kept swimming forwards, letting the water hold me up, swirling around me like magic, soft and brutal at the same time. It was relaxing, I guess.

Until I got cramp.

At first I just tried shaking my leg around, hoping that that would make it go away, but it didn't. The pain, tight and cold, spread, clawing at my muscles, until my entire foot was filled with it, poisonous and icy. I've felt worse, but it did make it totally impossible to move my foot. It just hurt way too much. I began kicking up through the water using my other leg, scrabbling furiously around with my arms, but it wasn't working. I couldn't reach the surface. The cold and the pain and the lack of air were all joining together to pull me down, a bit like some evil conspiracy thingy or whatever. I just kept sinking, further and further down, floundering around. I think I started to panic when I realised that my air was running out. My body was instinctively fighting to breathe, my throat tight with fear and pain, but I knew that I mustn't, because I would only suck in a lungful of water, and then things would seriously start to get bad…my head was ringing, and my chest was bursting, adrenaline roaring through me. There was this sick feeling in the bottom of my stomach, and I was beginning to get seriously frightened. No longer relaxing and gentle, the water was pressing in all around me, weighing me down like a shroud. It felt like I had absolutely no air left in my body, and my head was spinning now with dizziness and panic. I was battling furiously to fight my way up, but my arms were weakening, and I could hardly feel my legs…actually, I couldn't feel anything…there was nothing left at all…nothing…

* * *

"Tyson?"

"Oh, Tyson, please…"

"I think he's breathing…he's breathing! It's OK!"

I jolted awake, my lungs coughing up water onto already wet sand, drawing in deep, tearing gulps of air. My throat felt bruised and raw, and I knew that sooner or later I was going to end up with a serious headache…

Hang on.

I'd been drowning. Yeah. Got that. So how I did get from under three metres of water back to land? Good question. Everything was all blurry and silvery, so it was kind of hard to see; my eyes were stinging, probably still sore from the salt water. I leaned forward on my hands, weakly coughing up the last of the water. Something gripped my arms, steadying me: a pair of hands. I wondered vaguely whose they were, then gave up. I felt sick. I could feel tiny drops of rain drifting down and settling on my damp skin. Great. I shivered, forcing my tired eyes to focus on my hand, which was pressed into the sand. The effort made my head hurt even more, and I felt very dizzy, suddenly. I swayed, and flopped over. The pair of arms that had been holding me steady caught me, and I collapsed against someone solid and wet. I squeezed my eyes shut. The grey-white glow of the rainy sky was too bright to look at. The person holding me carefully shifted me from my side to my back, an arm supporting my head. I guess the dude was trying to make sure I could breathe OK. Someone draped something warm and fuzzy over my chest and legs – a blanket. Good. Now I could breathe, and I was warm. Much better. Nice of whoever this was to be considerate.

With my eyes closed, I could focus on the sounds coming from all around me. Voices, I decided – those were definitely voices. In fact, that one sounded a lot like Maxie's…

"You sure he's going to be OK?"

"It's alright." That was…Rei? "He'll be fine, I promise. He's breathing easily now."

"Then why isn't he waking up?"

There was a pause. Then Rei's voice said again, quietly, "Look at me, Maxie. _Look_ at me.I _promise_ you he'll be alright."

Something touched my cheek, lightly. It felt like…a hand. Puzzled, I touched it. Its fingers curled around mine, and something warm and wet fell to my forehead. "He's awake!" Maxie yelled. I cracked open an eye to see him bending over me, blue eyes swimming with tears, his mouth quivering with sobs. I gave his hand a squeeze.

"Dude," I protested. "Dude, quit yelling. You're giving me a headache."

Another drop of warmth spattered onto my face, and he sniffed. "We thought you were dead," he whispered.

"Do I look that bad?" I asked.

He laughed, weakly, and Rei appeared next to him, putting an arm round him. "How're you feeling?" he asked me.

"Not bad," I muttered, letting my eyes drift close again. Talking was making my throat hurt. "Um.Tired. Can I sleep for a bit?"

"Uh, maybe you should try to stay awake till we've got you warmed up a little more…"

I wasn't taking in what he was saying. "The others?" I asked, drowsily, my eyes still closed. I still hadn't figured out who was holding me. I didn't expect it mattered too much. It was one of my friends, and that was all that was important. I wriggled against whoever it was for extra warmth, getting comfortable, gripping Maxie's hand one last time before curling up underneath the thin blanket. "Where're…the others…?"

"Kenny and Hilary and Daichi went up to the other houses to see if anyone was around…to get help…"

"Mmm." I was busy counting. Kenny, Hilary, Daichi…who else? Oh, Kai, of course…so if Maxie and Rei were here, then… "Where's Kai?"

The person I was lying on shifted slightly. As I drifted back into the soft, sleepy darkness, I heard him saying, softly, "I'm here, Tyson. I'm right here."

* * *

YES! FINALLY! I FINALLY THREW IN A CLIFF-HANGER! FEAR THE SADISTIC FICWRITER! FEAR HER!

Erm…

…yeah, so, any questions? Oh, Johannesburg? That's one of South Africa's capital cities. Anyone on a business trip would probably end up either there or in Tshwane. I kind of wanted to have something South African in this story, so I chucked it in.

Um, I used rain and a picnic again…anyone recognise that from _Tomorrow_? _(grins sheepishly)_ Hey, do I look like care? Rain is fun to write about. The beach, incidentally, is based on the one near to where my grandmother lives.

No idea when the next update will be, although I'll try to avoid more two-week delays. The next chapter is officially another flashback, simply because I want to draw the plot out! Hee!

What else? Oh, right! REVIEW! Wait, sorry, I have to be politically correct… _(clears throat)_…please provide constructive criticism. Your comments will be greatly appreciated, and will be rewarded with…I don't know, what's creative? Aha! All reviewers will get their very own PINK ELEPHANTS to love, cuddle and cherish! W00t!

I think I'm on caffeine again **x.X**


	6. Sunset

**Tyson:** But I thought this was going to be a flashback chapter?

**Reshki:** Guess what? I LIED!

**Tyson:** That's not very nice.

**Reshki:** I know. _(smiles sweetly)_

**Tyson:** Uh…may I ask why you're posting something as totally screwed up as this? And this time it really IS screwed up.

**Reshki:** OK, I know, I did something I'd sworn never to do – I tried to write a Beybattle.

**Tyson:** _(falls over in shock)_ NOOOOO! _(dies theatrically)_

**Reshki:** Yes, and I regret it. It's…OK, a fairly accurate description would be "utterly devoid of anything even approaching good taste". Sorry. Please feel free to hate me.

**Tyson:** Ahem…can't I do the disclaimer?

**Reshki:** I thought you were dead?

**Tyson:** _(thinks)_ OK. Greetings from the spirit world. I am the ghost of Tyson. My otherworldly wisdom tells me that Reshki does not own Beyblade or any of the characters in this fic, and that it will also contain true stupidity, shonen-ai, and mild language. Be warned! I have been known to randomly haunt people at will. FEAR ME!

**Reshki:** OK, you do that, Tyson._(sighs)_ Well, if he hasn't scared the readers away, I'm hoping the Beybattle won't. Read on, wonderful readers, and even more wonderful reviewers…and try not to die just yet, please? I do love you all really.

* * *

**Chapter Six**

**Sunset**

It was late afternoon. The day had cleared up since yesterday, and the sky was bright and blue, tinged with a deep, clear wash of golden light that meant that sunset was not far off.

The training hall was large, at the front of the house, complete with an area for basic stretching and fitness exercises. In addition to several small practise rings, there was one large Beydish in the very centre of the room. The entire exterior wall was made of sliding glass doors, so that while one trained, one could look directly out onto the ocean. I liked that. The crowded, grimy streets of cities and the shadowy, claustrophobic passages of stuffy buildings have always put me uneasily in mind of the Abbey, and also remind me of the suffocating proximity of others. I prefer open spaces where I can train by myself. I was completely alone; the others were pigging out in front of the TV, as usual. Tyson seemed to be regarding yesterday afternoon's brush with death as an excuse to eat even more than usual, if that was actually physically possible.

I began stretching meticulously, my mind elsewhere. Specifically speaking, it was still somewhere out in the cold, grey waters of yesterday, unable to think with worry and fear.

Oh, Tyson.

I'd carried him up to the house with Rei's help. He seemed to be absolutely fine – just shaken, and cold. The others had stayed with him the whole afternoon, and much of the evening, too; Max had stayed by his side the longest, eventually leaving, exhausted, for his own room at past midnight. He'd passed me on the way out; I was sitting in the doorway, my arms curled around my knees, my eyes on the bed where Tyson lay sleeping. He was perfectly alright, I knew - he was just milking the extra attention. That didn't mean I was going to leave him, though.

Max had stopped as he passed through the door, and looked down at me. Quietly, he'd said, "Hey, Kai. You going to bed?"

Mutely, I had moved my head slowly from side to side.

He'd nodded, accepting this, and said, in a soft, affectionate voice, "Take care of him, OK?" before disappearing down the hallway.

I hadn't slept the whole night.

Did Tyson know it was me who had saved him? Had the others told him? I hoped not. It was embarrassing. I would have preferred to forget the entire incident and move on. It had been frightening, watching from the beach; he had gone down, and he hadn't come up. It had taken me a full minute to realise that this wasn't another stupid joke, and that was when I'd leapt up and started sprinting down to the water, my mind numb with fear. In a way, it was almost ironic. Seeing Tyson dangling lifeless, helpless in the water beneath me had reminded me horribly of the time when Brooklyn had come so close to defeating me.

That had been possibly the toughest battle of my life.

Broken and bleeding from his attacks, I had suddenly felt myself falling, floating down through layers of nothingness, the roar of the crowd, the cheers of my team fading away completely. I had been more alone in that moment than in any other, and, as I slipped farther and farther away from reality, I had been prepared to give up. I had been willing to let go, to forget everything, to sleep, finally and forever. It was then that a hand had reached down…

…a hand had reached down…

If it had been anyone else, I don't think I would have had the strength to come back. It was only because it was Tyson - my enemy, my friend, my guide - that I kept fighting, that I summoned up the courage to continue. To give in then would have been undeniable weakness, and I could never allow him to see me as anything but strong. I came because he asked me to, and because I could not deny him anything he asked. I came back because he was worth more than anything. I came back because I loved him.

He'd risked his life because of me far too many times now.

It was, I supposed, the least I could do to pay back the favour once in a while.

Back in the present, I stood, picking my launcher up from the floor, pulling Dranzer carefully from my right pocket, and fumbling around in my left for the old ripcord I'd found that morning. It was actually one of Tyson's spares, but he and I had spent several afternoons together modifying it, and I'd wanted to see if the hours of clowning around (on his part), extreme bad-temperedness (on my part), and bickering (on both our parts) had actually been worth it.

"Aha!" someone said in my ear.

"Shouldn't you be doing whatever it is the completely incompetent do?" I sighed, folding my arms, ignoring the small twinge of mindless happiness that had flared up when I heard his voice.

"I," Tyson said, grabbing my shoulder and spinning me around to face him, "have been looking for you the _entire day_."

"Well, seeing as you slept in for so long this morning, that can't have been too long," I shot back, glaring at him, secretly very glad to see him on his feet again. I had left his room at ten that morning when Hilary and Kenny came to bring him breakfast in bed, brushing past them without a word, and hadn't seen him since – though I had heard him yelling at Daichi an awful lot, which I'd taken as a sign that he was feeling just great.

He stuck his tongue out at me. "At least I'm not a criminal," he said. "You, Kai Hiwatari, are a…a no-good, low-down, ripcord-stealing…ripcord-stealer!"

"Says who, exactly?"

"Me!" His hand shot out, but not fast enough. I dangled the ripcord high above his head, out of reach. "Come on, Kai, that's mine!" he puffed, waving his arms around, making wild grabs at my hand.

"Bit slow today, are we, Tyson?" I taunted him. "You can do better than that, surely?"

"Yes, I can!" he shouted, and, clutching at my shoulder, grabbed my wrist and twisted my arm down. I tired to stop him, and for a moment we grappled, competing, as always, to see who was strongest. He won. He trapped my arm against his chest with an elbow and used his free hand to twist the ripcord out of my fingers. "So there, Kai!" he crowed. "Guess _you're_ the one who's slow. Then again, I would be too if I'd been up the whole night."

I froze.

He looked up into my face, and smiled. "Hey, relax, dude. Kenny and Maxie told me you stayed with me. That's cool. I mean, it was a nice thing to do."

I gave a little snort, and muttered, "Whatever," before stalking off, pulling away from his grip, heading for the big Beydish in the centre of the room. I heard him following me, and then felt his hand slip onto my shoulder as he leaned against me. I turned my head to look down at his face, cuddled up against my arm.

"You're getting a huge, big hug," he informed me, cheerfully, "seeing as you were fearless and bold and saved my life and did all the other stuff that super-hero-type dudes do."

I jerked him off my arm dispassionately. Now, I told myself, he was beginning to work on my nerves. "Tyson, either do something constructive or leave."

"Wow, I'm loved," he sighed. "Can't a guy talk to his buddies once in a while?"

"I wouldn't know," I said through my teeth. "I don't have _buddies_."

"Yeah, you do!" he said. Mentally, I kicked myself. I had probably just given him full license to start on another friendship speech – as if I didn't have to sit through one at least once every day. "You got me, right?"

"Wrong," I corrected, grabbing the ripcord from his hand a little too roughly. My nail caught the skin on the back of his hand, so that a fuzzy, red line flared up in its wake.

"Ow!" he complained, sucking on it crossly. "Dude, that was not necessary."

I clicked Dranzer into place on the launcher, shoved the ripcord home, and wrenched it out again viciously, sending the blade racing across the dish and back again, leaping back into my hand. Not bad. I inserted the ripcord again, preparing to try for a little more stability…

"Kai, can't you just listen for one second?'"

"No."

"OK. Wait." He put his hand on my arm just as I launched Dranzer, completely throwing off my aim. The blade flew crookedly through the air and landed on its side some way away. I swung around to face him angrily. He cowered, a sheepish smile on his face. "Sorry!" he squeaked. "Seriously, dude, I'm sorry…"

I stalked past him to retrieve Dranzer. He followed me, making stupid comments like, "I didn't mean to!" and "Hey, sorry!" I knelt down, scooping up Dranzer carefully into the palm of my hand, and straightened up again. He was standing behind me, still with that idiotic, hopeful, innocent look on his face. It was the one he'd worn that time, long ago, when Hilary had caught him and me in the middle of a midnight feast, his face covered in the last of the chocolate cake. I would have smiled at the memory, but I was not in a smiling mood.

"You don't get it, do you?" I asked him, my voice quiet a first, but growing louder with each word. "You just don't get it!"

"Get what?" he asked, still wearing that pathetic smile. "Uh, Kai, please don't kill me just yet, I kind of like living…"

"Stop it!" I shouted. "Stop being stupid, stop being immature, and stop acting like we're friends! I've had it, Tyson! You never leave me alone! You never get off my back! Did it never occur to you that I don't talk because I don't _want_ to talk?"

"Maybe I want to talk to you!" he yelled. "Did you think about that, Kai? Did you think about maybe I actually like you? 'Cause I do, you know – I look up to you, Kai, even when you're being selfish and rude like this. There's no one in the whole world I'd rather be with than you. I want…I want to be as strong as you, Kai. I want to be as dedicated as you. And you know what else? I want you to like me. How's that for crazy? 'Cause you know what? I have fun with you – I have fun blading with you, I have fun arguing with you, I have fun even when I'm telling myself that I hate your guts…I want to be your friend, Kai."

"Well, you're out of luck," I said, and hated myself even as I said it. I felt like I'd punched him in the face. It hurt to look at the sadness in his eyes, but I made myself do it. I couldn't be weak in front of him – I _couldn't_…

"You know what the worst thing is?" he asked, bitterly. "It sucks when you're angry, and all, but at least then I know you care. What's worst is when you're like this, Kai – when you act like you don't feel _anything_ – and I know that that's nonsense, because I _know_ you care about me." We were in very dangerous territory now. Of course I cared. I loved him. The only flaw was that he didn't love me; he cared for me, yes, but as friend cares for friend. It was so easy to let myself believe that he loved me. I had to keep forcing myself to get a grip. He was talking about friendship, I kept telling myself: ordinary, straightforward, completely platonic friendship.

Wasn't he?

He was watching my face, trying to pick up some kind of reaction. I kept my expression as blank as always. After a long, sad silence, he said, in a small, broken voice, "Don't we mean anything to you at all? Rei, Maxie, Hil, Daichi, Kenny? Don't you care about us? Tala? What about him?" When I still said nothing he added, in a resentful tone, "What about me? What do I mean to you?"

"Not a lot," I said, slowly, deliberately.

"I know you're lying, dude!" he said. "Because the day before yesterday, you said that you'd do anything for me. I heard you, Kai, I _heard_ you say that! I'm not stupid, OK? And – I mean, OK, I'm like your archrival or whatever. I get bumped off, your way to the title of World Champion's clear. So, if I mean so little to you, then why did you save me yesterday? It would have made your life easier just to…to leave me there."

"I couldn't let someone drown," I said, gruffly, trying to sound sincere, to sound human. I shrugged. "I'd feel…guilty."

"That's it?" he squeaked. "So, you save someone 'cause you don't want a guilty conscience thingy? Dude, that's messed up, and it's not true."

"And you know that how, exactly?" I asked. "Don't think you know me, Tyson. Spending a few months of the summer together doesn't make us best friends."

"Yeah, well, it makes you _my_ best friend, whether you like it or not," he said.

I said nothing. I didn't want to say anything, and, even if I had wanted to, I wouldn't have known what.

"Kai?" he continued, quietly. "You know you make absolutely no sense, right?" When I didn't respond, he said, stumblingly, "One day I'm the only one who means anything to you, the next you hate me. Could you make up your mind? Only I'm kind of getting tired of keeping up with your little mood swings or whatever."

I still couldn't think of anything to say. I turned my back on him, and began walking slowly back to the Beydish. He caught my arm, his fingers resting in the crook of my elbow. For a long while, neither of us said anything. Then he wiggled his fingers, tickling me, and said, "Sorry."

I said, grudgingly, "It's not your fault, Tyson. It's – it's mine. I'm…sorry." I looked at him over my shoulder. He laughed, winked, and absently pulled his cap off, spinning his it around in one hand and jamming it back onto his head backwards.

"Up for a Beybattle?" he asked, innocently.

For some reason, I laughed, too, quietly, feeling the familiar sting of adrenaline slice through me as I said, "Let's do it."

Moving to the Beydish, I clicked Dranzer into place in my launcher, feeling excitement pulse through me. I was blading against Tyson again. I felt the old, jaw-gritting determination to win, the spike of confidence and eagerness ripping through me. Pretending not to watch him, but secretly following his every move as he positioned himself on the other side of the dish, his back to the view of the ocean, I brought the launcher out in front of me, and glanced up at him. He didn't smile, but nodded, ever so slightly, and drew back his arm, pulling the ripcord. I tugged at mine with all my might, grunting, even as he did, "Let it rip!"

Dranzer hit the Beydish spinning, finding its centre of gravity and righting itself, surging across the dish to meet Dragoon, which nimbly evaded it, darting to the right. "Heh! Like I didn't see that coming!" Tyson crowed. "Oh, you're in trouble now, Kai." Dragoon veered up, climbing the sloped sides to hug the very lip of the dish, racing round to my side. Meeting his eyes for a single moment was enough to tell me what he was planning, and so Dranzer stayed put in the middle of the dish. "Now!" Tyson shouted, and Dragoon leapt up into the air, and came arcing down sharply, hitting the surface at full tilt, preparing to slam right into me. I'd seen it coming, and immediately sent Dranzer shooting up off the ground to avoid Dragoon's attack – but Tyson had predicted this, and his blade followed mine, so that they clashed in mid-air.

They fell down pressed against each other, the whirring attack rings glittering with sparks as they crashed together. We pulled away at the last moment, calling our blades back, letting them circle each other warily.

"You're getting rusty, Kai," Tyson taunted. "You'll have to be sneaky if you want to get past me!"

"Do you want to blade or talk?" I shot back.

For answer, Dragoon darted forward, but Dranzer, still circling, wheeled around in the other direction, zipping away, picking up speed, catching Dragoon from behind and slamming it hard so that it skidded away across the dish. For a moment, I thought I'd won, but then his blade came rushing back at Dranzer, taking it head-on and hurling it away. I barely managed to hold its balance. "Get the message?" he asked. A slight breeze stirred, tickling the back of my neck, tugging gently, insistently at my bangs, stroking my skin like cool, playful fingers. I knew what it meant – he was beginning to call out Dragoon.

I almost grinned. He'd asked for it. With a sigh of anticipation, I drew my blade back a little, steadying it, kicking its rotation speed up a notch, and feeling the pure, exultant rage of Dranzer's spirit beginning to rise inside me. The air around the blade began to glow slightly, shimmering with the heat. Flecks of fire danced and glittered before my eyes. "Look out, Tyson," I called softly, mockingly. "Look out." Feeling the power build up like molten flame inside me, I looked across at him, our eyes meeting. Love surged through me, heightening my strength, my determination, and Dranzer rose up, its red-gold wings smouldering in the bright air, its head curved in readiness for an attack, the dark heart of flame pulsing behind its eyes, blazing down the sides of the dish to meet with Dragoon at the centre.

The wind was whipping around me furiously now, howling in my ears, sizzling with cold, fierce electricity that stung my eyes and tore at my heart. The centre of the dish was glowing, radiating a fierce, glassy light as Dragoon twined around Dranzer. The bitbeasts clung together so closely that it was becoming difficult to see which was which: Dragoon, powerful and headstrong, and Dranzer, passionate and proud – embracing or fighting? It was impossible to tell. The air currents churned and swirled around a still heart of flame. Shaking, trembling with the effort of maintaining the power, I raised my eyes slowly, painfully, to gaze across at Tyson, his form distorted slightly by the rippling heat. He was smiling, his eyes sparkling, his face flushed with exertion. He was so alive, so open, so strong, that he made everyone else seem quiet and contained by comparison. Something inside me broke, and I suddenly realised that I had to win. I had to be strong for him; I could never, _ever_ let him see me as anything else but strong.

So I lashed out with all my strength. Dranzer shrieked, a searing war-car that ripped through the roaring of the winds, and Dragoon was knocked up and away. For a moment, it hung, revolving slowly in the golden air, light winking off its edges, before tumbling down, gathering speed, until, with a soft, whickering click, it hit the tiled floor, bounced once, toppled onto its side, and lay still.

The whipping, deafening winds died down to cool, gentle swathes of air, flowing around me like water, and I felt Dragoon's presence curl up contentedly and fade away. Silently, I called Dranzer back, catching the still-spinning, feeling it fit perfectly into the palm of my hand. Quickly, I ran my eye over its surface, checking for damage. Finding none, I tucked it gently away into my pocket, and looked up to see Tyson straightening up from bending to down to retrieve Dragoon.

It was later than I had realised, and the sun was already beginning to go down. He stood there against the sky, the brilliant, searing flames of the sunset glancing off the bright water, shimmering and rippling and pouring down him, staining his skin a deep, glowing colour, as though he were made entirely out of light, the free, piercing spirit inside him soaring up to meet me. Fire spilled through the sky, and the air welcomed it, letting the light suffuse through it, soaking up the million shades of orange and crimson and yellow, lanced with the shadow-colours of deep, secretive bronze and black, and a few floating, hazy patches of ethereal blue. I found myself walking towards him across the hall, drawn to him, drawn to the fierce, passionate brilliance in him. He had lost, I knew – so what? He had bladed with true skill, with power, with confidence. I respected and admired him no end, although I would never have admitted it.

As I reached him, facing him, I suddenly didn't know what to say; I opened my mouth, but could find no words. Clumsily, happily, he reached down, and his fingers slipped into mine, so that we stood, bathed in the many, mingling colours of the sunset, holding each other's hands. He was smiling at me. He said, still a little out of breath, his voice overflowing with satisfaction, "Now _that_ was a Beybattle."

"I guess," I said, stiffly.

"I mean it," he insisted, squeezing my hands slightly in his earnestness. "You deserved to win. I'm…I'm glad you did, Kai." The smile grew, and he began to play with my fingers, linking them with his, tickling them gently, stroking them in a manner that made me feel as though I were melting with love. "Heh, it just means I'm going to feel even better when I get my revenge! Ah, you better watch out, Kai my man, because next time Dragoon and I are going to roll right over you."

"Is that a fact?" I asked him, laughing quietly, absently stoking his palm with my thumb. How could I not love him when he said things like that? Just the littlest things, the stupid, common words that everyone else said – just the littlest things made me love him.

"Believe it," he warned.

"Tyson, you may talk big, but you've never _once_ managed to live up to your boasting. Do the world a favour and get over yourself."

"Hey! That was uncalled for!"

I smirked, twisting my little finger around his. "It's true."

"Ah, man! You just can't give me break, can you?"

"Believe it," I mocked softly.

He looked at me for a moment, and then said, "Do you know what I thought the very first time I ever saw you? You know, by the river, when you were still a blade-stealing, trash-talking bully?" He pinched my thumb gently between two of his fingers as he said it, then slowly locked my hands between his own and brought them up to cuddle them under his chin, hugging them to his chest. My legs had gone very weak at the knees. "You know what I thought? I thought, 'Oh, man. This guy's going to be trouble'. I swear, I was standing there, and those words were just going through my head, over and over – 'he's going to be trouble'." He looked quite proud of himself. "Was I right or what? That's, like, predicting the future! I'm psychic!"

I didn't say anything for a moment. We were standing very close together now, our hands clutched together in a knot of fingers that rested on his chest. I could smell the clean, fresh scent of his shampoo as his hair dangled in my face. Slowly, almost drunkenly, I eventually said, "I love blading against you, Tyson."

His face lit up all the more, the rich, orange and gold light spilling around him, creating a nimbus of deep copper around his face. The intensity in his eyes then, the sheer, unashamed _devotion_, was electrifying, like being filled up with clear, powerful joy. With a small hitch in his voice, he said, "It's the best thing in the world…Kai." He lingered on my name, our faces precariously close now. "We're not ever going to stop. We've got our whole lives still ahead of us, to blade, and to teach, and to do…whatever we want to! You and me, Kai…we're going to take the world by storm!"

"Together," I confirmed, my voice still slow, caught up in this breathless, giddy moment. "I don't want to be without you. I'll…whatever life throws at us, Tyson, I'll always be here to face it with you, no matter what." I swallowed, and added, in a voice that sounded devastatingly tender even to my own ears, "I'll never leave you." Slowly, barely understanding what I was doing, but unable to stop all the same, I leaned my forehead against his, loving the feel of his body against mine, drinking in his warmth, his acceptance, his compassion, his courage. He rubbed his cheek against mine, and sighed, a happy little shiver running through his body. The closeness, the gentleness, the dreamy, wonderful love, all ran together like a river of fire inside me, flooding me with painful, piercing contentment. I felt tears prick my eyes as I we stood there, pressed to each other, breathing in unison, our hands curled together, our bodies basking in the warm, melting light of the fiery sunset that had saturated the room. I closed my eyes, feeling as though I were dissolving, seeping out of my body and into his, meeting him, knowing him, loving him, holding him - forever.

Slowly, his hands slipped away from mine and wound around my waist. I slid my arms up and around his neck, pulling his body against mine with an odd desperation, trying to get even closer to him, as though making sure that he was real, wanting to keep him for my own. I pressed my face against his, hearing myself whimper slightly, nuzzling his cheek with my nose, suddenly needing him more than ever before. I felt his hand touch the back of my neck, feather-soft and entrancing. Even such a simple thing was enough to make me go crazy with pent-up longing. A series of whispery shivers dripped down my spine, and I moaned softly, looking up hungrily into his face, clutching him to me, my breaths hard and sharp. His eyes were darkly golden, and heart-wrenchingly beautiful. His hand moved up, slowly, slowly, trailing along my face, each second heightening the delirious, trembling sensations swirling inside me, until at last the tips of his fingers rested on my lips, and he was tilting my head, pulling my face slowly, steadily, down to his, his mouth drawing closer and closer to mine…

…then the door banged, and a voice said, "Oh. Erm. Uh…_hi_, guys…"

"Gah! M-Ma…M-M-M-Maxie!" Tyson stammered loudly, jumping away from me, his voice strained and falsely cheerful. Looking at the floor, I felt terribly embarrassed for him, as he was obviously preparing to pretend that this hadn't happened, hoping that Max would get the message and pretend as well. There was a slight pause after his footsteps stopped, and I knew that he would be giving Max one small, casual, pleading look, and shaking his head the tiniest bit. Then he said, brightly, "So, what're you doing here?"

"We're going down to the beach again this evening – the weather's cleared up, so we figured we'd have a party…want to come?"

"Awesome!" he enthused, his voice becoming easy and sincere. "That'll be _sweet_! What do you say, Kai? You up for it?"

"Whatever," I said. "Fine."

Before I left, I took one look out through the wide windows, but the sunset was over, and the air was pale again, fading to a deep, singed, bruise-colour at the edge of the sky, lightening to lilac at the apex. I was suddenly very cold.

* * *

HAH! Another almost-kiss! I love those, I really do. They're easier to write than actual kisses, which I still find difficult.This one was a little longer than the one in Chapter Three though, and I liked it way better. 

Look, I'm sorry about the Beybattle. It's a weird writing style, I know. I KNOW! It's left over from my days as a _(coughs)_ poet, which are now well and truly over. You can only write so many haikus about depression. I tried to make up for the truly zoned-out nature of the battle with all the huggling, but I still don't know if it worked. If right about now you're going "OK…small question…yeah, um, just what the hell is she ON?", then I can't blame you. I'm not expecting much response to this, I'm really not. The next chapter is done, and, being in Tyson's PoV, was easier to write, and is a LOT better…plus, they finally kiss! No lie!

Also...no ReiMax. Sorry. I can't write serious fics with multiple pairings. No multi-tasking for me. Plus, as I've recently decided, I prefer ReiMariah to ReiMax. Blame my sister.Don't ask, just blame her.

Oh, and the sunset? Of COURSE I put a sunset in. It's, like, this motif thing for TyKa. They met at sunset, Kai came back at sunset (Episode 48 – every fangirl's dream come true!), and, symbolically speaking, sunset is obviously the union of fire and air. Even my sister agrees with me - for once. I just had to have something sweet and romantic at sunset. It's TyKa tradition!

…or not.

You know, I really, really like getting reviews…_ (innocently points to large neon sign saying _REVIEW NOW!


	7. Stay With Me

**Adoring Thank You Note to My Oh-So-Amazing Reviewers:** I'm going to start off with saying thanks first, instead of leaving it till last like I usually do. This is because the reviews for the last chapter were some of the mostpostive I've ever gotten! Ditto the ones of r my oneshot _Afterwards_! Thank you guys so, so much! I'm nervous about posting this now…it's a bit shorter than the last one, and was written in something of a hurry. The choir's been preparing for the end-of-term concert, and I've been writing end-of-term tests, so I didn't have too much time to work on it. I think it came out OK, though.

**Warnings:** I promised you a kiss, and you got a kiss. This _is_ shonen-ai, just by the way, but I think you might have noticed that by now. Also…my first OC? I guess. She's just mentioned briefly to make it more realistic. I think that Tyson, being the all-round adorable little dude that he is, by the age of almost eighteen would have been kissed before at least once.

**Disclaimer:** No ownership of characters, no ownership of Beyblade, no money being made, no sanity of any kind. That good enough for you?

* * *

**Chapter Seven:**

**Stay With Me**

Take it from me: trying to pick your way across the rock pools in the dark at nine o' clock in the evening without breaking your neck while trying very hard not to stare at the person you've only had a crush on _forever_ is not an easy thing to do. But I managed it at last, stumbling my way across the expanse of rock that stretched out into the water, coming to stand a little way behind Kai. He was perched there, one leg dangling down over the edge of the rocks, the other drawn up to his chin. He was just…staring. At nothing. He must have a really interesting life.

Come to think about it, though, I probably stare even more than he does – mostly 'cause I spend so much time staring at him. Heh. Oh, come on, the guy's hot! And I…may not be completely straight anymore.

Actually, scratch that. I'm not straight. End of story. I figured that out ages ago. Kind of around the same time I figured out that yeah, Kai could be evil and all, but he could also be strong, and loyal, and trustworthy, and honourable, and caring, and a whole bunch of other nice things.

What can I say? I'm not going to try and explain it or anything. Kai says I'm reckless, and maybe I am, but I just never got that whole "look-before-you-leap" thing. I don't see why you should sit around trying to analyse every teeny-tiny little detail…plus, I've got the Chief to do that for me. I guess I always figured that if you spend too much time trying to work out what _might_ happen, you never really get around to seeing what _does _happen.

And what did happen was that Kai became special to me.

Anyway, the point is that I'd scrambled across the rocks and the stones and the seaweed and the seashells, and that I was about to try my hardest to understand just what exactly went on in that very weird mind of his. Let's go over it one more time, shall we? Just in case I missed anything the first billion times I'd thought the past few days through. Over the course of seventy-two hours, he had let me sleep in his arms, told me he would do anything for me, saved my life, and tried to kiss me not once but _twice_. I may not be the world's most observant guy, but that surely meant that _something _was up, didn't it? Didn't it?

Or maybe he was just having fun trying to mess my head around.

I wouldn't put it past him. He is Kai, after all.

I walked quietly across the small space remaining between us. The rocks were a little damp with salty water, and the small grazes that had opened on my feet stung a little, but I didn't mind. I plopped down next to him and said, quietly, my voice almost swallowed up by the gentle sighing-sucking-swishing sounds of the waves, "Hey."

His scarf had been pushed up so that it hid most of his mouth, so his voice came out kind of muffled, but still as carefully emotionless as ever. Does he think it's cool to act tough? 'Cause it's not cool, it's just annoying. "Hello, Tyson," he said, still looking out over the black water, his eyes reflecting the moonlight. Looked like he wasn't in a talking mood. I felt a little twinge of annoyance and regret. I _like_ talking to him. I scooched closer to him, shifting so that my feet dangled down into the cold water. My toes curled up automatically as they touched the icy surf, then relaxed as I swished them around a little. It was pretty cold now that the sun had gone down. It was getting to be autumn, and the night breeze off the sea was chilly. I shivered a little, pulling my jacket closer around me, and looked at Kai.

The moon was full, hanging heavy and silver on the lip of the ocean, its light painting a spider-webbed path of dewy grey on the water, washing faintly over his form. It glowed gently on the curve of his hunched neck, on his hair, on his arms. He must be cold, too, I realised, seeing as he wasn't wearing his jacket. Idiot. Did he _want_ to catch pneumonia or something? "Aren't you freezing?" I asked him, frowning.

"No," he said, still staring out across the water.

"Dude, Hilary's going to kill me if you catch cold," I said. "Let's get back to the others. We've got hot chocolate!"

"I'm staying here," he informed me.

"Marshmallows!" I crooned, batting my eyes at him. "Come on, Kai! Soft, sweet, delicious marshmallows…"

"Did you not hear me, Tyson?" he snapped.

"You know you want them, Kai. Give in to temptation. The marshmallows are calling to you…"

He finally turned his head to look at me, sighing. "That's enough, Tyson," he said. "_I'm – staying - here_." He spaced the words out deliberately, emphasising each one.

"Fine," I said, breezily, shrugging. "See if I care. If you want to be by yourself, you can just tell me next time. You don't have to do the whole get-out-of-my-face-I-hate-the-world thing." I got up, like I was going to walk away.

For a moment he said nothing; he just sat there, hunched up into himself; then, as I began to walk away purposely slowly, out of the corner of my eye I saw him twisting round, and heard him call, in a breathless, embarrassed voice, "Tyson…wait…I…"

I grinned into the darkness. Everything was going exactly according to plan. Resisting the urge to break out into full-scale evil laughter, I retraced my steps. He was determinedly not looking at me. Kneeling down next to him, resting my chin on his shoulder, I whispered smugly into his ear, "And if you want me to stick around, you can tell me that, too."

"Back off," he muttered. I obediently sat back, still grinning, crossing my legs to get more comfortable. See, before he'd practically been ignoring me. Now he was just annoyed, which meant that he'd probably do whatever it took to get me out of his hair - like answering my questions. I swear, I know him _way_ too well. After a few seconds of silence, he said, "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

"Duh," I said. "You're so easy, Kai - a complete pushover."

"So why do you want to talk to me so much?" he asked. "Whatever the reason, make it quick."

"Well, you know, the main reason is that for some strange reason I actually like hanging out with you," I said. "The other reason is that I what to ask you something."

"And that something is, exactly?" he asked, grumpily.

OK. Deep breath. Just ask. It's not going to get you killed. "Are you…you know…seeing anyone?"

"No. Are we done?"

"Almost," I said. Well, I'd known the answer to that one. I'd have known if he was going out with anyone. I'd spent every single day of the past two months with him – making up for lost time, I guess. One of the worst things about not having him on my team for the last Championships had been how lonely things got without him. I thought about him almost every day he wasn't with me. Anytime there was even a chance we'd see each other, I would get really nervous and worked-up – and when I _did_ see him, I would feel jittery and dizzy. Even the smallest glimpse I caught of him was special, was precious. I missed him more than I'd ever have thought possible. When he'd come back into my life, I'd wanted to make sure that never happened again. I barely let him out of my sight. Even the thought of losing him again freaked me out. So now for the next question. It was actually kind of pointless me asking, seeing as I doubted I'd get a true answer, but I wanted to have some sense of stability. Even if the answer was a lie, I wanted that lie for reassurance. So I said, teasingly, "Is there a certain someone you'd _want_ to be involved with?"

"What is the point of this?" he asked, tiredly.

"Nothing," I said, innocently. "I just want to know."

"Know what?"

I smirked at him. "All about your love life – and details are important."

"Why?"

I shrugged. "You're Kai. _Everyone_ wants to know about your love life. Half the girls in the world are in love with you." I pondered this. "Of course, the other half is in love with me."

"I think you'll find you're mistaken there," he said, darkly.

"Hey!" I protested. "I'm cute, aren't I? I have charm. I have talent. I'm a pro sporting personality over here! I happen to have major appeal."

"Someone seems to have lost touch with reality," he commented snidely, but it was almost like there was this tinge of affection in his voice.

"Are you going to be mean or are you going to answer the question?" I pouted.

He sighed. "If you think I'm going to waste my time on something like this…"

"So you _do_ like someone!"

"Excuse me? I don't recall saying that."

"You're avoiding the question!" I told him. Man, I was enjoying this! "You don't want to answer! Come on, own up. Who's the lucky lady? Maybe not so lucky, actually…gah! Imagine having you as a stalker…"

"Tyson, this is none of your business," he insisted.

"I want it to be my business," I said, simply.

"Well, it isn't."

"You're no fun, you know that?"

"If I'm no fun, why are you still here?"

The real answer? Because I was practically in love with him, that was why. The answer I gave him? "Because you still haven't answered my question."

"And guess what?" he said, bitingly. "I'm not going to."

"I'm just going to have to guess who it is then," I said, gleefully. "So let's see. Ming Ming?"

"That pathetic excuse for a blader?" he scoffed. "Get real, Tyson."

"I don't know," I said, trying to be fair. "She's actually a pretty serious blader. She was really tough competition. She beat Daichi, after all. Besides, she's nice. We talked to her once, after BEGA closed down, remember?"

"I remember," he said, snickering. "That was when Kenny fainted."

I snorted out loud with laughter. That had been the most hilarious thing _ever_. "Yeah…he finally got her autograph, and she kissed him on the cheek, and he just passed out cold. Hilary was so mad. She never liked Ming Ming, did she? Don't know why…" I winked at him. "She's hot – and she's really sweet when she's not working for that loser Boris."

He didn't say anything, but just sort of kept really, really still.

Oops.

I couldn't remember the last time we'd even mentioned Boris, or Voltaire, or any of that stuff. Hey, it wasn't like I _wanted_ to talk about it. Even being in that Abbey place for those few minutes had creeped me out – and Kai had grown up there. I didn't even want to think what it must have been like for him. It's been a long time since then, but I still get mad thinking about it. How could anyone do things like that to kids? How could anyone do that to _Kai_?

And if _I_ got mad about it, I couldn't even begin to imagine how he must feel.

I felt like kicking myself.

"Um. Sorry," I said, my voice a little hoarse. I winced even as I said it. Like one little word was going to make it better.

He looked at me, turning his head so that he could rest his cheek on his knee. Moonlight was shining in his eyes, and there was this weird expression on his face, angry, but resigned. It made my heart ache to see him like that. "It's OK, Tyson," he said, gently – well, gently for him, anyway. "It's over. I'll never have to see him again. He's gone. He's not a part of my life anymore. I don't have to exercise because a team of experts is forcing me to. I don't have to train with electrodes strapped all over me. I don't have to blade because of someone else's dreams of power. I can blade because it's what I love doing. I can blade with _you_, and that's more important than anything else. Everything that happened then is over."

Oh, man.

How brave is that? Just how insanely, unbelievably, impossibly brave is that? How does he do it? How can one person _be_ so strong? I couldn't look away from him. Swallowing, I began in a small, broken voice, "Kai…"

"Don't," he said, still in that same soft, resigned tone. "I know what you're going to ask, Tyson, and don't. You don't ever have to worry about me. I'm fine. You're the one I worry about."

"I worry about _you_," I said, before I could stop myself. "Every day. Every day, the first thing I think about is you, if you're OK, what you're doing, when I'm going to see you, if you're in a good mood or not, what you'll be wearing…dude, I…I want you be OK. More than anything, I just want you to be alright, and…and…"

Yup, I was babbling. Mentally, I was hitting myself on the head. Hard. But what was I supposed to do? I couldn't look away from his gaze. It was almost frightening to see him so close, so beautiful, his eyes fixed on mine, intense and unwavering. I was so sure that he could see how much I cared about him. I loved him _so much_. Surely it was showing in my face…surely he had seen…what would he do…?

In a voice that was barely more than the quietest, harshest whisper, he said, "Do you mean that?"

"Yeah," I squeaked, helplessly. And after that, it was like, what the hell? You've told him too much already. Anything you say from now on is just going to make it worse, so why not tell the truth? So I cleared my throat, and repeated, softly, but in a clear voice, "Yeah. I do, Kai. Every word."

Moving so slowly that he hardly seemed to be moving at all, he shifted so that he was facing me entirely, kneeling in front of me. Our knees were touching. Eye contact broken, I stared down at my hands, fidgeting. This was not working. Eventually, I said, "I guess the others will be wondering where we are." When he still said nothing, I took a deep breath, and, watching my hands intently, said, "Look, I said you just had to tell me, right? If you want me to go, I will."

There was the tiniest pause, and then he said, in the smallest, most vulnerable voice I'd ever heard him use, "What if I want you to stay?"

I looked up at him, slowly raising my head to look at him, at the face I've known for so long, at the smile, half-formed and hesitant, and into the eyes, glittering in the moonlight with a bright, hopeful force that I'd sometimes glimpsed but never understood before. I found myself smiling back, unable to stop myself, and his hands covered mine, our fingers locking together. The touch made my heart begin to beat faster and faster, while something constricted in my chest. A knot of nervousness began to squirm in my stomach. Now what? Damn it, he was so _close_, and suddenly all I could focus on was the feel of his strong, square fingers curled around my own, and the smoothness of his cold skin. Slowly, slowly, his hands began to stroke my own, our fingers playing, entwining, tightening round each other in mock-battles of strength, caressing the length of my palm. My breathing was quick and hard. What was he _doing?_

OK, bit of a stupid question there.

I couldn't look at him. I just closed my eyes. His hands left mine, snaking up my arms, tickling me, stroking me, dancing across my skin until I could feel myself flushing, and hear my heartbeats were shuddering in my ears. Everywhere he touched me, I could feel my skin tingling, burning, even though his skin was cold. I'd wanted this for so long. I could barely breathe. He'd reached my shoulders now, and his fingers had slipped under my top, brushing my collarbones with his thumbs, moving up my neck, sliding his fingers into my hair, cupping my face, tilting it upwards. My heart thrumming wildly, every nerve in my body prickling, I opened my eyes just as his lips brushed mine.

For a moment, the world hung frozen. Between heartbeat and heartbeat we stared at each other, the cool air of the night and the dim, icy starlight glimmering in his eyes. The roar of the waves was suddenly very, very loud, pounding and crashing and churning all around us, a sea of sound that all but drowned us –

And then he bent his head back down and opened my mouth with his, and the shock and the joy and the pleasure soared through me as his hands left my face and trailed back down my neck, one cradling my head, the other slipping down across my stomach and up under my shirt. I broke away, gasping, fighting the urge to laugh uncontrollably, and threw my arms around him, burying my nose in his shoulder, finding his neck with my mouth and kissing it again and again, clinging to him desperately as his hands found their way everywhere, running along my back, stroking my chest, pulling my hair loose. I think my cap had fallen off. I didn't care. This was _insane_ – in a very, very, very good way. I let my hands wander up to his hair, and, still kissing his neck, worked my way up until I'd found his mouth again. He was straddling me now, kneeling over me, and, little by little, was pushing me down, kissing me fiercely, taking in these huge, gasping sobs of breath, his hands folded around my head.

I was lying against the rock now, and his lips left mine, and travelled down along my jawbone to my neck, nibbling and licking my skin with the most gentle, infuriating touch. I think I heard myself moan slightly. All I could do was stare up at the stars, scattered like powdered glass across the sky, and lie there, lost in this rapture, this totally unreal perfection, while he kept kissing me. My entire body was pulsing with simultaneous enjoyment and total disbelief. I can remember thinking hazily, "No way is this real. I am so dreaming." Then his mouth found mine again, and I kind of forget everything. His touch was searingly, brutally powerful, ferocious and limitless. Of course it was. This was Kai – Kai who made _everything_ into a competition, Kai who was strong enough not to need anyone else, Kai who had never, ever, _ever_ shown any sign of liking anyone at all, Kai who was now sprawled on top of me doing some serious kissing.

Life sure gets interesting.

He broke off slowly, reluctantly, his breathing quieting, his lips closing on mine in a last achingly tender kiss, pulling back so that he could look at me. I gazed up at him dreamily. "Well, hey there, Kai," I said shakily, blinking dazedly, this happy little smile taking over my face and refusing to go away. "That was fun."

But there was something wrong with him – the look on his face – it was that look of self-disgust again, that shocked, disbelieving anger at himself. He was staring down at me in some kind of horror, his eyes stretched wide, his lips parted slightly, his jaw clenched. His breaths were quickening again, and he looked completely terrified. He opened his mouth as though he were going to say something, closed it again, swallowed harshly, squeezed his eyes shut like he was going to cry, and then he was gone, and I was left lying on the cold, damp rocks.

OK, so it wasn't like it was my first kiss ever. There had been this one chick who'd liked me a lot when I was around fifteen. I'd liked her too – she was really friendly and encouraging and funny. She and Hilary would probably have gotten on well together. She was a great friend, and yeah, she kissed me once. It was right before she and her family got on the plane to go to England for the rest of her schooling. Thing is, although I reallyhad liked her, I hadn't _like_ her.

I had liked Kai.

I still liked Kai.

And I had absolutely no idea whether or not he liked me.

I think it was several minutes before I got up again, and began walking slowly back towards the house. Great. Just great. What was that about? Had he kissed me and realised all of a sudden that he hated me? Or was he going to pull his usual I-stand-alone-for-I-am-the-mighty-Kai-so-bow-down-before-me thing? Or was he going to be all stupid and noble and not like me for some idiot reason like he thought he wasn't good enough? Or…or what? What was it? What kind of guy breaks off in the middle of kissing you and runs off looking like the world's going to end?

Maybe he remembered he accidentally left metal in the microwave.

Don't look at me like that! It was a possibility.

Whatever the reason, he was going to have some serious explaining to do.

I didn't find the others on the beach. It figured. They would have gone in a little before, after it had started to get cold. It's only strange people like Kai who like to sit outside and freeze to death half the night. So I headed on up to the house. I was going pretty slowly, mostly 'cause I was still working out how exactly I was going to kill Kai for this.

You know, if I'd just walked a little bit quicker, I could have saved myself _so_ much more trouble later on.

I guess it took me about ten minutes to reach the house. It looked kind of pretty, the lights glowing warm and orangey-yellow against the black sky. Kai was going to get it, I promised myself. Right after I'd had something to eat. I was starving.

Maxie was waiting for me at the door. I looked at his face and knew that something bad had happened. "Tyson," he said, in this very small, very nervous little voice, "would you like the good news or the bad news first?"

"The…good news?" I guessed, standing on tiptoe and looking over his shoulder for Kai.

"OK, well, there are still loads and loads of marshmallows left," he said.

"Good!" I said. That was something nice, anyway. Random, but nice. Moving on. "Have you seen Kai? I need to punch his big fat head in."

Rei drifted into view, followed by Hilary. "That's the bad news," he said. "Tyson…Kai left."

It didn't hit me for a full five seconds. Eventually, I said, "Uh…what?"

"He left," Hilary said. "He didn't even _look_ at us, Tyson – he just ran to his room, came back two minutes later with his suitcase, and stormed out. Tyson…"

"What?" I said again. It just wasn't registering.

"He's gone," Maxie said.

"But," I began, and stopped. Not again. Not again. He was _not_ doing this to me again. No way. Not happening. "But…" I tried again. This was not cool. Oh, please no. "But…" I sniffed, and swallowed, feeling my lip beginning to tremble. I rubbed my hand across my face angrily, trying to get rid of the tears, and looked up to see Maxie watching me. He put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it tightly.

"I know," he whispered, so that the others couldn't hear. "I know, Tyson. I'm sorry."

Right then, I wasn't even bothered about how he knew, or how much he knew. I was just grateful that he was there. I don't know what I'd do without Maxie, I really don't. I smiled weakly, and whispered, "Thanks. I…hey, I'm just going to go…see…" He nodded, and slipped his hand off my shoulder, and I walked slowly down the hallway, turning left into the room where Kai had slept.

The bright lights of the house had hurt my eyes after being outside for so long, but Kai's room was dark. As I pushed open the door, the light from the hallway fell in a soft, yellow beam onto the small table beside his bed, and struck something that glittered slightly. Numbly, I walked through the doorway and reached out a trembling hand for the small, bright thing that lay on the painted surface of the wood, and caught it in my palm, my fingers curling around it so tightly that the metal attack ring dug deep grooves into my skin. I sat down on the bed, my legs refusing to hold me up, feeling hot tears of misery and fury leak from eyes and drip down my face.

Dranzer.

He hadn't taken Dranzer.

How could he? How could he _do_ this to us? _Again?_ Did he really and truly think that he could just walk in and out of our lives like it didn't matter? Didn't he _know_ by now how much I loved him? Was he so thick that he hadn't noticed how much he meant to me, how much I depended on him being there for me, how much I cared for him? Didn't he _see_?

I felt bruised and hollow. It had all happened so quickly. One minute we were talking about girls, the next we were making out, and the next he'd disappeared. He was gone. Again

And he hadn't taken Dranzer.

I knew then that he wasn't coming back.

* * *

Am I the only one who thinks that that kiss went on for _way_ too long?

Ooh! _(points) _Another cliff-hanger! _(pokes the nice evil cliff-hanger)_ Remember that plot I managed to formulate? Yeah, well, it only went up to this chapter. I am not at all sure about what happens next. As usual, I will dedicate the otherwise unproductive forty-five minutes a day spent in maths class to working out what Tyson will do to win the heart of his true love. I think so much better when I'm supposed to be doing something else. Why is that?

Anyway, reviews would be highly, highly appreciated…especially ones with ideas for the continuation of the plot! Inspiration-mine be dead!


	8. Sanctuary

MORE THAN A HUNDRED REVIEWS! Whee! You people rock! Of course, the sucky thing is that I really, really, REALLY wanted to do individual replies this time around, but now we're not allowed to anymore! How mean is that?

Ah, well. _(sniffs)_ Maybe it's best that way. _(insert depressing soundtrack here) _This chapter is already the longest so far. I don't know how it happened. IT'S NOT THE END, though this whole thing will be drawing to a close pretty soon. I kind of wanted to have nine chapters to correspond with the title, but we'll see. I mightdo ten – I'm not sure yet.

**Warnings:** The usual stuff. No major shonen-ai for this chapter, though - just a mega-glomp courtesy of Tyson.

**Disclaimer:** You know the drill: it ain't mine. Have a nice day.

* * *

**Chapter Eight:**

**Sanctuary**

When I'd left Japan a week ago, it had barely been autumn, but here in Moscow, the nights were already seeing the formation of frost. I wasn't sure where I was; I had left the confines of the city almost an hour ago, and was wandering aimlessly across open land under the dark skies. It was a still night; there was no wind at all. My eyes stung and watered from the cold, and my lips were dry. Away from the golden glow of the streetlights, the stars were very bright, shining with a strong, shimmering light that wound around me, making the grey cloud of mist that formed from my breath glitter slightly.

A week…

A week in which for the first time in a long time I had began to remember what it was like to be afraid.

In such a small space of time, everything had been destroyed. I'd compromised on control because of feelings I wasn't even supposed to have. Everything was in disarray, was meaningless and confused.

Walking on slowly through the clear, quiet night, the icy air clawing at my throat and lungs, I found a rock, and sank down onto it, curling up into myself, drawing my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around my legs, leaning my head tiredly against the thin trunk of the spindly tree twisting up out of the hard ground next to it. A week, alone and cold, without Tyson, without Dranzer, without anyone or anything. I was beginning to realise how frightening being alone could be.

Tyson, I knew, would spend a couple of days punching things, sulk for a few more, and then forget all about me. I had been without him before. I had survived. He had his own life, a life that didn't involve me anymore. He would be alright by himself.

I hoped.

It was the loss of Dranzer that hurt me the most. Over that past week, there had been countless times when my hand had strayed to pocket, searching idly for my blade, only to find that it wasn't there. The same frozen, wide-eyed panic had gripped me each time, before I remembered.

_You don't own Dranzer._

_You're not a blader anymore._

_You don't have anything._

I had lost everything because I hadn't deserved to keep it.

I left Dranzer behind because if I took it with me, I would be a blader. I would be a member of the Blitzkrieg Boyz, and a part-time member of the BBA Exhibition Team Mr Dickinson had recently set up. I could no longer trust myself. If I bladed, I would want to blade against Tyson. If I saw Tyson again…

It wasn't fair to him. He deserved to live the life he chose, not the life he was forced to live because of any sympathy he might feel for me and my stupid lack of control over my emotions. I couldn't blade against him – I wasn't strong enough to _deserve_ to blade against _anyone_, let alone him. Not after what I'd done. Not after what had happened.

Alone in the cold, I bit my lip as hard as I could, clenching my fists up tightly. How many times was I going to have go through this? I was pathetic. I couldn't even control my own thoughts anymore. I hadn't even been able to control myself when I kissed him.

* * *

Usually, I blame Tyson for everything; usually, everything is his fault.

This time, though, I had been the one who'd made a mess of things.

That night on the rocks had been like something imagined, like something that had taken shape in the shadowy indecision between wakefulness and dreaming.

In the pale moonlight, shivering slightly in the damp, fresh breeze from the ocean, I had looked down at him, feeling his cold skin stippled with goosebumps under my hands, hearing his breaths deepening and quickening, watching his eyes close while his lips parted in a small, incredulous smile. Kneeling on the hard, rough rock, feeling my heartbeat echo the tumbling, roaring rhythm of the waves, feeling him shudder with the cold, I had kissed him, greedily, relentlessly, selfishly.

I had promised myself that I wouldn't – that I would be strong for both of us. I had made up my mind long ago never to say anything to him, and when I make a decision, I keep it. I don't screw things up, except in personal relationships, and those don't count. If I tell myself I'm going to do something, I'll do it, and I'll do it _right_ – and if I fail, I won't fail without having fought to the last.

It wouldn't be fair to him to tell him.

Even so, I had found myself there, with him pressed against the hard, cold rock beneath me, his warm, smiling mouth dabbing at my skin, planting sticky, clumsy kisses everywhere, his hands clutching at my clothes, his hair pulling itself loose and tumbling untidily into my palms.

It was the stupidest thing I'd ever done.

From the very beginning, I'd known what was simple, and obvious: if you let yourself love, you immediately make yourself vulnerable to envy, persuasion, blackmail, weakness, and, ultimately, defeat. It's not something melodramatic or clichéd: it's a fact. If I chose to be alone, I would have only myself to think of – and I could trust myself. I knew exactly what I could do and what I couldn't do. I knew myself. Anyone else would have been a complication that I couldn't have afforded – and anyway, from as early as I can remember, there had never _been_ anyone else. Everyone I'd ever known was like me: focused, disciplined, uncaring. That was how we lived. It was the only way we knew _how_ to live.

That's what it was like at the Abbey.

Even when they told me that I had done well, it wasn't me they were proud of; it was my progress. I was a hollow, faceless, nameless thing, a passage to victory, empty and otherwise useless. I didn't realise that this was a bad thing. That was what life was.

Friendship did not exist. How could it, when everyone was competition, when every person you met would ultimately have to be defeated so that you could survive? There were no such things as trust, as caring. They weren't discounted as though they didn't matter; they had never been there. They weren't a part of my life. The only definition of love was the desire for perfection; the only idea of happiness was the satisfaction that came with victory; the only sign of weakness permitted was the hunger for power.

Power was the only thing that mattered.

My whole life, I'd been taught that perfection was the only option. Nothing less would be accepted. Beybattle was my life, and I mean that literally. I was born to it; it was all I knew; it was all I had. No one can understand. It's a simple impossibility, because everyone else is human, and I wasn't for the first years of my life. I was something that others had created. You can't know what it's like unless you've felt it, unless you've lived your life confined, being sculpted from the very beginning into someone else's dream.

In a way, I think that although I don't actually like him very much, that's why I'm still so close to Tala. I care much more about the Bladebreakers, but the Blitzkrieg Boyz are all I have for family – a weary, bitter, suspicious family, but a family nevertheless.

If I was ever afraid, or lonely, it was in a time when I was too young to have retained any memories of it. The only thing I can remember feeling is the lust for power, for strength, for total and complete control – and frustration when I fell short of the mark, when I failed. All I wanted, with all my heart, was to succeed, was to be stronger than everyone else, to _show_ them that I was the best, that I was perfect.

I think that's why I wanted Black Dranzer so much.

I still can't remember too much of what happened after I launched it. Trembling with excitement, I felt one moment of weightless exhilaration, knowing that I held in my hands the strongest, deadliest Beyblade ever created – and after that, the world was just an explosion of noise and crushing, suffocating blackness. For the longest time, I couldn't move, or speak, or see, or even think clearly. Pain and confusion ate at me from the inside, searing me with dark, hurtful fire until I was numb and empty, drained of everything.

When I woke up, I was outside in the world for the first time: outside in a world of people who felt strange, pointless, idiotic things, a world full of people who weresloppy and undisciplined, a world full of people who cared only about themselves and about their friends, and not about what they could achieve, not about how strong they could be. None of it made any sense.

I despised them. I looked down on them, because I was stronger than them.

It's almost ironic that the one person I despised the most was the one person who could beat me.

* * *

To be honest, if I look back, I can't even remember what Tyson looked like on that day beside the river. That was a time when I didn't see people as individuals – their faces blurred into a mass of mistrust and anger; they became one composite enemy that must be held back and defeated at all costs. When I saw him standing there, I saw another rookie who thought he could beat me, and nothing more. He didn't matter to me; no one mattered to me, then. I had myself, and I had Dranzer, and I neither had nor wanted anything else. He was nothing. I can't even remember the things I said to him as we looked at each other in deep, fiery radiance of the setting sun, trying to stare each other down, acting as we would to any other opponent. I can't even remember the sound of his voice.

I can remember my defeat at the Regional Championships, though. For the first time in what little memory I had left, I had been beaten. He was no longer just some kid shooting his mouth off. He may have been a sloppy, immature disaster waiting to happen, but he had beaten me. I hated him so much that I couldn't think clearly. Being defeated was like walking into a void, like missing a step going downstairs – one breathless, eternal second of jarring, sickening panic. The one thing I had always had was power, the ability to win against _anyone_ - and suddenly it wasn't there anymore.

There was nothing left.

I think it was the hatred, and the raw, mind-numbing jealousy, that drove me to such lengths. I wanted to take him down. I wanted to _show_ the world that he was nothing more than a lot of talk and a seriously over-inflated ego. He was stronger than I liked to admit, though, and was growing more and more powerful everyday despite his disrespect and irresponsibility. I tried to tell myself that beating him would be easy, but I knew that it wouldn't.

I hated him.

I knew I had to defeat him.

I knew that doing it would be the hardest challenge of my life.

Now that I think about it, that challenge was never met. We never did manage to decide who was the stronger of us. Even my official defeat at his hands in the last World Championships Tournament hadn't finalised anything. It had just been another step we'd taken side-by-side, another stop on our joint way to victory.

We would make Beyblading history, and we'd do it together.

It had been a promise we'd never bothered to speak out loud. He just came to understand after a while that the only person I truly needed with me, that the only person I even considered worth blading against anymore, was him – and he, I had realised with a quivering, apprehensive happiness, had decided that he cared about me.

Then, just a week ago, I'd ruined it.

* * *

A gust of searingly cold wind wrenched me back from the past, and I shivered. It seemed as though a breeze were picking up after all, which was not good. I'd lived in Russia long enough to know that the temperature of the wind can be several degrees lower than the temperature of any surrounding air. It would be warm at the small, cheap, efficient hotel in the outskirts of Moscow where I was staying, but I didn't want to go back there.

I hadn't yet contacted the Blitzkrieg Boyz, although I knew where they were living. This was because my plan didn't involve contacting to them at all. My plan involved hiding as far away from anyone else as I could until I was sure that Tyson hadn't taken it into his head to do something stupid like come look for me, then applying to university and staying there for as long as it took for the world to forget me.

I had enough money saved to see me through for a while, although I had spent more than I should have in trying to secure the earliest possible flight out of Japan. I would, I told myself firmly, tilting my head up towards the black, endless skies, be alright. I had never needed Tyson in the first place; he had just made my life a little nicer. Dranzer I could learn to live without. I'd survived worse than this.

I knew, though, that I was lying to myself, and I've never seen the point in doing that.

As I looked out at the cold, darkly crystalline world, I knew, even if I didn't want to admit it to myself, that it wasn't the inability to go on without Tyson that frightened me. I was my own person; I didn't need him, or anyone else, with me. I could live by myself; I could take care of myself; I could fight by myself.

I just didn't want to.

It was the idea of spending the rest of my life in this icy, cold emptiness, the idea of waking up every day for the next sixty years and knowing that Tyson wouldn't be there, that frightened me.

Tyson.

It's only a name, only two syllables, just a random assortment of sounds. How can one small, ordinary name describe fully someone like him? How can anything describe him at all? He isn't a collection of hollow, indifferent words. He's a person, a strong, caring, loudmouthed, annoying person, someone real and beautiful and loyal, someone who manages to make friends with almost every person he meets. He really just loves the world. He's the sort of person who'd put his life on the line to save _anyone_. He'd complain like crazy while he was doing it, and afterwards he'd brag about it so much that no one would ever be able to forget it, but he'd do it.

What I've never been able to understand is how he can care so much.

I'm not afraid of trusting people - I just think that other people are too weak to be trusted. Tyson doesn't seem to care about that at all. If he thinks someone's in trouble, he'll try to get them out of it, at no thought of personal danger or loss. All he cares about is his friends.

I don't understand how he can do it.

What I especially don't understand is how he can trust me.

The fact that I would never betray him - simply because there's no one I love more than him, which means that there's no one I could ever justify betraying him _to_ - is irrelevant. What I'm trying to emphasise is that I don't think I've ever actually _shown_ him that he can trust me. For all he knows, I could still be out to steal Dragoon. I could still be working for Boris. The thought would never even cross his mind, but that's because he thinks I'm his friend. He doesn't understand that the world can be far harsher than anything he's ever known.

I'm glad of that.

I'm glad that he's the one who will have a happy, strong, real life. I'm glad that he's the one who will be able to go on. I'm not trying to be some self-sacrificing weakling. Honestly? Then and there, shivering underneath the cold stars, all I wanted was for him, and for everyone else who was special to him, to be alright. It sounds ridiculous, I know, but that's what I was thinking.

I think it was then, as I realised that, that I heard footsteps behind me.

He was walking slowly across the hard ground, his hands shoved into his pockets. He could have been anyone, bundled up in a warm, heavy coat, but I knew it was him. I knew it was Tyson. No one else walked in that way. No one else moved like him. No one else had that spark inside them, that brightness, a warmth that I could almost _see_.

I began to get very angry very quickly.

I got up off the rock, my pulse rate accelerating sharply. I was going to _kill_ him for this. He was supposed to stay behind with the others, get annoyed, moan for a few days, and then get over it. He wasn't supposed to follow me. I considered walking away, but realised that that probably wouldn't work. He just run after me, and catch hold of my arm, and if he touched me, I would lose it entirely. So I stood still, leaning against the tree, folding my arms over my chest, watching him get closer and closer, knowing that this was not going to be good.

He stopped a few metres away from me, and raised his face to mine. The thin, shimmering layer of frost that covered the world reflected the moonlight, so that I could see him easily. He just looked at me, his chin trembling, tears glinting in his eyes, betrayal, along with determination in spite of it, staring out from his face. I knew that look. The last time I'd seen it had been before he defeated Brooklyn.

The silence lasted a very long time. The only sound to be heard was the whistling of the wind as it whipped around me. I hugged myself tighter, seeking warmth, and finding none, my eyes never leaving his. His tears had spilled out now, sliding down his cheeks in long, metallic streaks. The pain in his face was almost too much to bear. I knew what he was trying to ask me: _Why?_

The only answer I had for him was one I would never give him. I couldn't let him know how much I loved him. I _couldn't_.

At last, wiping the tears away silently, he said, quietly, trying his hardest not to sound angry, "You weren't planning on coming home any time soon, were you?"

"No," I said, trying tostart thinking inJapanese again after a week ofspeaking Russian.

"We were worried about you, dude," he said, frowning. "Tala won't admit it, but he's freaking out. Even Bryan looked pretty upset when I saw him. Actually, he could just have been mad at me for knocking that glass of water all over him, I'm not sure…"

"You didn't have to involve them," I told him, crossly, gritting my teeth in annoyance.

"Well, how else were we going to find you?" he shot back. "Maxie called Tala first thing the morning after you left, 'cause we figured you'd be staying with him, but he hadn't seen you, so we got scared. I called Mr Dickinson, asked him if the BBA could get me plane tickets to Russia so that I could prevent the world's top Beyblader from doing something insanely stupid, and here I am. It took us ages to track you down."

"You shouldn't have bothered, Tyson!" I shouted, so loudly that my voice cracked. "You just don't know when to stop! Can't you just leave me alone for once in my life?"

"No," he said, clenching a fist and taking a step forward. "No, I can't leave you alone, Kai, because I'd _never_ make you face anything by yourself. Don't you see, Kai? It's always been us, together, you and me and Maxie and Kenny and Rei and Hilary and Daichi and _everyone_. We can't…I can't…leave you like this."

"Like what?" I snapped.

"Alone," he said, helplessly. I opened my mouth to say something, but he interrupted, angry again, "Don't you dare tell me to go! Don't you _dare_ tell me to leave you! I'm not going to, Kai! Not now." He sniffed. "You always do this! I've just found you, and you go away again. Just when I think it's going to be alright, you pull a fast one on us and no one hears from you for months. You can't just mess with people's heads like that, Kai! Why do you keep running? What are you so afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid!" I snarled. How could he be so _stupid_? "You're the one who's frightened, Tyson! You're so dependant on your friends that you can't do anything without them. How would you manage on your own? You can't do anything for yourself. How do you think you'll survive if you have to go running to the others all the time?"

"At least I don't act like I'm perfect!" he shouted, both his hands now balled into fists, shaking with anger. "At least I admit that I have faults. You just act like you can do it all by yourself, and you can't!"

"I can," I said, glaring at him, my teeth chattering in the cold. "I can, and you know it, Tyson."

For one moment, he looked like he wanted to hit me, but then he sniffed again, and his hands unclenched themselves in defeat. He stuck his chin out, gazing upwards determinedly, and I knew he was trying not to cry. "Maybe I _can't_ handle it by myself," he said, quietly, to the sky. "Maybe I _do_ need you with me, Kai. Is that against some law you just invented?"

I had nothing to say to that.

I would have done anything for him, given him anything he asked, but that. As much as I wanted to, if I stayed with him then there would always be the risk that I would forget myself again. I turned my face away from him, resting my chin on my chest. Eventually, all I could say was, "You don't need me around anymore, Tyson."

"'Course I do!" he protested. "I'm…I…you're…blah. Look, stuff this, we're not getting anywhere. Are you coming with me or not?"

Without thinking, I said, softly, dangerously, "You're avoiding the question."

Then I considered announcing live on television that I was in love with him. It would be about as obvious.

What was _wrong_ with me? What exactly was I trying to prove, anyway? I should have known better than to hope that he was interested me, seeing as I knew for a fact that he was straight. I knew he'd had at least one girlfriend before, and that he'd only broken it off because she had to leave the country. I knew that he was just trying to make me feel better, because he couldn't bear the thought of hurting anyone. That's what he did. He stuck by his friends.

Even when his friends fell in love with him.

"You stole my line," he said, smiling weakly.

"Why?" I demanded fiercely. "Why do you care?" When he looked away uncomfortably, I burst out, "I'm not an idiot, Tyson! You just feel sorry for me, don't you? Stop wasting your time, because I don't care about you or any of your fake sympathy!"

"I don't feel sorry for you," he said, sulkily. "You're not _that_ special, Kai."

"Then what's the deal?" I asked. Years of habit were complaining about how pointless this was. I could have been doing so many other things, I could have been blading…

…no, I couldn't have.

"The deal, dude, is that I liked…you. It. What happened. What you… did. I…liked it," he was saying, fidgeting slightly.

"I'm afraid you're not proving yourself to be very articulate," I said, irritably. "Either say something or don't, Tyson. Don't just stand there stammering. I've wasted enough time here as it is."

"Fine!" he shouted. "Fine! You want to know something? You…kissing me and…and whatever…look, it wasn't that bad, OK?" There was a slight pause, and then he muttered, darkly, "And if you've got a problem with that then you've got a _serious_ multiple personality thing going on."

Once again, I didn't know what to say. Was he just lying to make me feel better? I wasn't sure, which annoyed me all the more. I hate the idea of 'maybe', of uncertainty, of approximation. I like being in control – but I just couldn't figure this out. Tyson wouldn't lie about something as serious as this – but what he was saying made absolutely no sense.

I looked up to see him watching me, sadly. I suppose he'd taken my silence to be a denial, to be admittance that kissing him had simply made a mistake. Sighing, he said, softly, "OK. I get it. We're not talking about it. Fine. It's just that…I don't know anymore, dude. I mean, it was kind of like…" He smiled slightly, a little, wistful smile, and shrugged. "It was like we were the only people in the world - like when we used to sneak off to blade together, just you and me – or like that first time you took me training – or like…like…_then_."

I knew what _then_ meant; in the darkness, I saw in his eyes the same bright, impossibly enthusiastic happiness that I had last seen in that strange, quiet place we had created for ourselves so long ago. It had been a place where the skies were powdered with an explosion of starlight that glittered on the dark sea, a place where we didn't have to use words to talk, a place where all that mattered was that we were together.

I tried not to think about that. It hurt too much to remember.

I took a moment to make sure I was in fully control of myself before saying, as clearly and tonelessly as I could, "Tyson, it can't ever be like it used to. Face it. Our days as friends have always been numbered. Whatever we had, or may have had, is in the past."

"So there was something?" he asked. "Come on, Kai, don't do this to me! There was something! We were…friends, right?"

"Yes," I said, stiffly. "We were friends."

"Then why can't we carry on being friends?" he asked, desperately. "Why did you…why did you have to go?"

I couldn't run from it anymore; for him, I had to be brave, and face it. "Because of what I did," I said, firmly. "Because I showed weakness, Tyson, an inexcusable weakness. What I did was stupid."

"What you did was _normal_, Kai!" he yelled. "What do you mean, weak? It wasn't weak! You were…"

"I was allowing myself to be controlled by what I felt."

"So what?" he shouted, balling his fists up tightly again. "Geez, I thought we got past all that stuff ages ago! Don't you get it? You're not alive unless you love, Kai, unless you can allow yourself to – to like things and enjoy things and be sad about things and…and cry and get over it and…and keep on going afterwards. You're not for real if you say you don't care. _Everyone_ cares, Kai, and you're no exception. What is so wrong with showing that you care once in a while? What's so wrong about it, huh? Tell me that, Kai!"

How thick can you get? He still didn't understand. He understood everything else – why couldn't he see this, too? Why did I have to explain it to him? I couldn't. I didn't know how. Angry, choking frustration pushed against the inside of my throat, and I choked out, my voice shaking, "It's not _like_ that, Tyson!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked. "What's the excuse this time, Kai?"

I said, the words coming out slowly and brokenly, sounding jagged and half-swallowed from the effort I was making to hold back tears, "The _one_ _thing_ that is more important to me than – than _anything_ else, Tyson, is you. I – I promised myself that I wouldn't let you see, because it would only hurt you – I promised myself that I wouldn't let you know…and I broke that promise." He had to understand, he had to realise how selfish, how uncaring I'd been. I'd never been worried about being cruel before I met him – he had shown me that kindness works, too, sometimes…he had to understand, for his own sake…"I did what I wanted, instead of what was best for you…that was why I had to go. It wasn't…" I swallowed, hard, and breathed in deeply, and completed the sentence, holding my voice perfectly steady, "…fair to you."

He looked at me for a short while, stunned and angry, and then said, in a small, sulky voice that held a quiet hint of what sounded almost like hope, "What wouldn't you let me know?"

This I could not tell him. Over all the painful, precarious years, I had come to realise that I did have friends, that there were people in the world who cared about me, and about whom I cared, and whom I had to protect form everything – even from myself. I had made too many mistakes. I wouldn't make any more.

I was in control again. I had mastered myself. I was going to give him an empty, impersonal answer, and watch his eyes darken as the hope died and the resent grew, and then turn my back on him as he walked back across the snowy fields. I readied myself for it, braced myself to withstand the crushing hurt I was about to see in his eyes, and said, "Nothing," I said, expressionlessly. "It's none of your business."

His face tightened, and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly, his fists shaking in anger. "Argh!" he shouted in frustration. "That's what you always do, Kai, and I'm sick of it! I'm not buying it this time! I want a straight answer!"

"I just gave you one," I said, sourly. "Weren't you listening to me? It's none of your business."

"Yeah, Kai, it is my business!" he corrected me. "When someone I care about as much as you just walks out on me and spends half his time freezing to death in the middle of nowhere, it is my business! You're…you're…you're everything to me, Kai. I can't lose you. I can't lose everything." He stopped, as though hesitating, and then said, in a small, aching voice, he said, "And more importantly, I can't let _you_ lose everything. So…here."

As he fished in his pocket, I felt my stomach tighten. He began walking slowly over to me, cupping something in his hands, not looking at me, closing the distance between us very slowly. At last, when he was directly in front of me, he held out his hand to me.

On the green cloth of his glove lay two Beyblades, glinting in the hard, bright moonlight. I felt my breath catch in my throat, and, unable to stop myself, reached out a trembling hand, catching up Dranzer. The familiar metal was slightly warm from Tyson's hand, and as I held it, I felt complete for the first time in a week.

But I didn't feel safe.

I tried to say thank you, but my throat was burning with what felt like liquid fire. My vision was swimming, and, before I knew it, tears were seeping down my face. I hated myself then. I was weaker than I'd known. It was frightening how much I depended on Beyblading, frightening how much I needed Tyson with me. I hated to have him see me like this. I hated him seeing me as anything but strong. I'd always forced myself to be strong for him, and now…

"Kai?" he asked. I couldn't look at his face. I just kept staring at the blurred image of his hand as he curled his fingers protectively around Dragoon. "You OK, buddy?"

I still couldn't talk, so I just nodded.

I heard him give a small, tearful sigh of ghostlike laughter, and before I knew what was happening, he had pulled me into him in a tight, crushing hug, wrapping his arms around me, suffusing me with warmth, pressing his cheek to my bowed head. All I could do was clutch at him and cry into his chest, feeling his hot breath wash over me, feeling his shoulder beginning to shake with his own suppressed tears. I completely broke down then. He was crying, too, but he was the one holding me. He was the one being strong for me. I felt so bad at that, but I couldn't stop crying. With my eyes closed, and my face pressed up against him, and Dranzer in my hand again, I stood there in the cold night and cried.

Just like all the other times, he held me up. He didn't try to protect me or pity me; he just lent me strength until I could find my own again. "It's OK, dude," he kept whispering, over and over again. "Just relax. It's going to be fine." He didn't have to say that; I knew it already. Safe in the warm darkness, it was like nothing bad could touch me; it was like I'd found a sanctuary.

* * *

**Reshki:** W00t! All reviewers get…um…_(looks around for anything vaguely appealing)_…one of these cookies I just baked?

**Kai:** Are you insane? You'll kill them! Your cooking is a crime against humanity.

**Reshki:** _(looks dubiously at cookies)_ You know, that's probably true…well, you could always pass them off as rare examples of…alien fungi…or…something…

**Kai:** Give up. Now.

**Reshki:** Maybe I should. _(pokes cookie nervously)_

**Cookie:** FEAR ME! I WILL DEVOUR YOUR SOULS! DIE, MORTALS!

**Tyson:** Hey, look, Kai, the cookie wants to be your friend.

**Kai:** _(ducks under table)_ I think it's safer down here…unless you people manage to talk a psychotic dust bunny into doing a cute little cameo act.

**Reshki:** _(grins merrily)_ Why not? This _is_ fanfiction, after all. Strange and terrible things have been known to happen to entirely innocent anime characters for no good reason whatsoever other than that the writer in question was hormonal, sociopathic, and occasionally just plain bored.

**Tyson:** Well, you've got all three points covered, so it looks we have…PSYCHOTIC DUST BUNNIES SEEKING LOVING HOMES! Every reviewer gets one! They're actually kind of sweet, really. _(pets psychotic dust bunny, which is conveniently taking a nap nearby, and almost loses a finger)_

**Psychotic Dust Bunny**: _(growls menacingly)_ Review - or face the consequences!

**Reshki:** Now would you look at that? Cute, yet evil. Joy unending doth reign.

**Psychotic Dust Bunny:** I MEAN IT!

**Kai:** How much are you paying that thing?

**Reshki:** Not…much…_(laughs sheepishly)_

**Psychotic Dust Bunny:** REVIEW!


	9. Sleep

**Reshki:** I'M NOT DEAD!

**Horde of Assignments and Reports:** Not yet, anyway.

**Reshki:** Go away. I'm currently in denial and am pretending you don't exist.

**Horde of Assignments and Reports:** You can run…BUT YOU CANNOT HIDE! _(evil laugh in stereo)_

**Inspiration:** _(looks up from examining cuticles)_ Hmm? Sorry? Somebody say something?

**Reshki:** As for you…did I give you permission to just die on me like this?

**Inspiration:** No. _(smiles sweetly)_

**Reshki:** _(sighs melodramatically)_ Ah, damn it. I don't know what I'm doing anymore. This chapter is very dead…just a lot of nonsense from Tyson's PoV.

**Tyson:** Good. I haven't expressed my LURVE for Kai _nearly_ enough yet…heh, heh, heh… _(drifts off into a certain sparkly little universe)_

**Reshki:** I'm warning you, it's insanely boring. Happily, I've got the beginning of Chapter Ten floating around on the back of my (way, _way_ overdue) Afrikaans essay at this very moment, and it's looking a bit better. Until I get that up, though, enjoy being bored…

* * *

**Warnings:** I attempt a slightly different version of the 'watching your crush sleep' cliché, Tyson experiences the joys of unrequited love, and Max (who, unfortunately, is _very_ OOC – it sucks, 'cause I love him, but _cannot_ write him) does some interrogation.

**Disclaimer:** Consider the facts - I'm broke, I can't draw, and I'm writing fanfiction. Conclusion? I'm not Aoki Takao, which means that I'm not the owner of Beyblade. Well done. Have a gold star.

**Correction:** I wrote Ian in the last chapter when I was actually referring to Spencer…should I just run around wearing a sign saying 'AIRHEAD'? Anyway, I've fixed it up now. Sorry.

**Thank you:** TO ALL MY REVIEWERS! Just _thinking_ about all the nice stuff you said makes me get hyper! You people so rock.

* * *

**Chapter Nine:**

**Sleep

* * *

**

It was raining, it was cold, and Kai was asleep.

You know how people always go on and on and on about how romantic and stuff it is to watch someone sleeping? Well, they said that a lot in those movies Hilary always used to cry over, anyway.

Heh. The real deal is that watching someone sleep is just plain boring.

The once cool thing was that I got to stare at him without being interrupted – and I could stare at Kai for a long, long time, so it wasn't like I was complaining or anything. I'm just pointing out that it wasn't like he looked cute or defenceless or whatever.

He looked grumpy.

No, seriously. His lips were this sort of annoyed pout, and his breathing was slow and heavy, like it is when he's trying hard to calm himself down and not get mad at someone. One hand rested lightly on the blanket across his stomach, rising and falling with each breath, and, at his side, the other hand was wrapped tightly around Dranzer. That made me smile.

Hey, he'd actually started _crying_ when I'd given him Dranzer back. Serves him right, in a way. I would _never_ just chuck Dragoon away like that. Still, though, I guess he wasn't thinking clearly when he did it. If I know him, and I think that by now I pretty much do, he was getting all worked up about not being good enough to blade anymore or whatever. He's done it before, anyway, and it still makes me get kind of mad every time it happens. He just doesn't know when to give himself a break.

Besides, you'd think he'd _know_ by now how amazingly talented he really is. You'd think someone who's as good as he is could afford to take time out every now and then…but no. He just keeps on pushing himself. One of these days I'm really going to have to bang some sense into his stupid head.

Basically – really long story short? I ran all over Moscow looking for him with the help of Tala and Bryan and that Spencer dude, as well as a couple of other bladers who'd known Kai in the old days. I found him staring at nothing in the frost, I gave him his blade back, he started sobbing into my chest, I practically dragged him by the scarf onto the next available aeroplane, and there we were, back home in Bay City.

By the time we reached the dojo, I swear I was half-carrying the guy. He hadn't slept _at all_ in the twenty-odd hours since I'd found him, and I don't think he'd had much rest while he was in Russia, either. Hilary took one look at him and ordered Rei and Maxie to bundle him off to bed. Yeah, he grumbled a lot - something about being just _fine_, and about how all he needed was a little time by himself, and about how we were all being pathetic. He didn't say too much else, though, 'cause he was asleep about three seconds after we got him onto his sofa.

I crashed, too, a little while after that. I guess I was also feeling pretty out of it, and that was just the jetlag. Kai had had a whole week of beating himself up. Sometimes I just don't know what I'm going to do with him.

Anyway, I woke up late the next morning to find the dojo empty, with a note on the fridge from the Chief saying that everyone had gone to the airport to meet the White Tigers, who'd just flown in. So, grumbling a bit, I got myself breakfast and decided to go back to bed.

Then I realised that Kai was still asleep.

So I thought, why pass up a perfectly good opportunity to gaze uninterrupted at the guy who is possibly hotter than anyone else in the history of the universe?

And that's how I ended up munching on some crackers at half-past nine in the morning on a grey, rainy day in early autumn, determinedly watching Kai sleeping.

You know, it's kind of difficult to explain how much he actually means to me. I don't talk about it a lot. Heh, I know that sounds weird coming from me. People are always telling me I talk too much, and I think Kai tells me to shut up or else about once every ten minutes. I still don't think it's fair, 'cause it's not like there's a law against being friendly, or something, but I'm getting off the topic.

The point is that…well…Kai is just so unbelievably special to me that it's almost like telling someone else about how I feel for him would ruin it, somehow. The things between us have always been unspoken, and that's 'cause half the time we don't _need_ to talk. When you get to know someone that well, the two of you can look at each other and understand each other perfectly. It's no big deal – it's just what comes of being really close. And all the stuff I feel for him…all the secret, special, warm-and-fuzzy-undying-love stuff…it's kind of private, you know?

OK. If you want to start from way back at the very beginning, I guess I could say that I've always been drawn to him, in this weird way. I mean, I've met a lot of people, and I've made a lot of amazing friends, but Kai just…stood out, and mostly 'cause he was such a jerk.

He used to get on my nerves a lot. What is so great about being the leader of some street trash bullies who pick on little kids? Or about hanging around in a corner shooting dirty looks at anyone who tries to be nice to you? I used to think he must have a pretty boring life, and that was why I used to try so hard to get him to talk. I was worried about him, even if he was just some weird grouch Mr Dickinson had gotten us stuck with. Hey, if someone's standing alone being all moody, you're going to want to cheer them up, right? I don't like seeing people being all sulky and sad. It puts me in a bad mood, and then nothing's fun.

'Sides, when there's so much you can do with your life, why would you want to waste it moping around? That's just dumb.

That was before I began to realise how serious he was about blading, of course.

It was like all he ever did was work. He just kept on and on testing himself, challenging himself. It made me see how much I could still achieve, so I began to work harder, too – but no matter how good I got, it seemed like he was always one step ahead of me. Ever since I started Beyblading, I'd always hoped that one day I would be the best – and while I battled against the toughest competitors from all over the world, and while each and every single battle was important, I just couldn't stop thinking about Kai.

Even though he spent half his time biting my head off and the other half pretending I didn't exist, I was seriously starting to respect him, and maybe even look up to him a little. He didn't accept failure. The way he acted, losing a battle was the worst thing that could happen, and so he spent all his time making sure that he _wouldn't_ lose. That's a little extreme, if you ask me, because not even Kai can win all the time. I'd used to think that I would be able to. I can't. No one can. I think we worked that out together, in a way.

He was more powerful than I'd ever imagined anyone could be – not just because he won all the time, 'cause he didn't, but because he was so focused, so determined. I'd never known anyone who could push himself so much and still keep on going.

I think Hiro said once that I was too dependant on Kai, and maybe he was right. I couldn't even imagine what it would be like not to have known him, not to have been his friend. He had touched my life more than anyone else I'd ever known.

Kai…Kai is awe-inspiring, that's what he is.

When you get down to what really matters, I love him. There've been times when he has sacrificed everything else just so that he wouldn't let me down. I mean, if he hadn't stepped in at the last moment, I would have been the one facing Brooklyn; I would have been the one who'd been so badly hurt; I would have been the one watching my bitbeast die. He knew what he was up against, and he knew what the risks were – and he did it all the same, just to save Beyblading, just to save me.

Oh, _man_, I love him.

It's the weirdest, most powerful, most frightening feeling I've ever known. Just knowing him makes me think that I really could do anything if he asked me to…and I know that that sounds really sappy, but it's true. Kai's done so much for me, and I don't know how I could even start to repay him. I just look up to him _so much_. In the end, he's always, _always_ managed to help me pull through.

Of course, all that doesn't mean that he doesn't annoy me more than anyone else I know.

In fact, the whole thing was really starting to get annoying. I mean, _he_ was the one who'd been trying to kiss _me_ half the time, but he was also the one who'd apparently decided to let the whole thing go. All the stuff I said to him when I was trying to get him to come back with me…I was _spelling it out_ for the guy! And he didn't even do anything! He just kept going on and on about how he was sorry, and about how he'd been unfair to me. What kind of crazy excuse was that? The only thing he'd actually done was kiss me, and that wasn't unfair at all. It had been…nice. I'd liked it.

Was it such a huge, scary, impossible thing for me even to _hope_ that we had the teensiest chance of ending up…together? He says I'm his best friend. He says I'm more important to him than anyone else. He kisses me. He refuses to talk about any of it.

For once, I had absolutely _no_ idea what the dude was trying to pull.

I'm telling you, I would have given a _lot_ just to see him smile at me again.

See, when he smiles at me, I can pretend, even for just the littlest time, that he loves me, too.

* * *

Still sitting cross-legged in the semi-darkness on the cold floor, resting my elbow on my knee and cupping my face in my hand, I popped another cracker into my mouthful and chewed it miserably. I had made myself a promise that I wasn't going to leave Kai until he woke up, because I wanted to be the first to know if he was OK. I had also made myself a promise that I wasn't even going to mention The Kiss. Yeah, that was what I was calling it. I'd already played it over in my head about a billion times. Kai hadn't seemed to want to talk about it, so, I told myself, I wasn't going to even think about bringing it up.

Even if he didn't love me, I was still pretty sure that we were still friends…

…OK, I was…kind of sure.

Thing is, if he wanted to pretend The Kiss hadn't happened, then that was cool. It made me madder than ever, but it was still cool. If he was going to go all mean-and-cold-and-emotionless on me and delete it from his memory, then at least we could stay friends, and I would still get to be with him, and everything would go back to normal.

I hoped.

Outside, the wind blew again, and a shower of raindrops pattered against the roof. I shivered, and started on another cracker, my eyes still fixed on Kai, watching him take each breath and let it out again. If you looked at his arms really closely, you could still see the small scars sustained over the years, and, on top of those, the newer, thicker, whiter streaks left by much deeper wounds. I shifted closer to the sofa, and, on a sudden impulse, let my hand dart up to touch his. Nothing happened. He didn't even stir. Good. I hadn't wanted to wake him up. The guy needed his rest. So if he was going to be asleep for a while still…

I got up onto my knees, so that I could look down at his pale, sleeping face, and felt warmth flood through me. Almost unconsciously, I gave this little sigh of affection. His special little blue triangle thingies were all smudgy. Hah. Not so cool now, are you, Kai?

Not even trying to stop myself, I reached out and ran a finger gently along his forehead, just wanting to be able to feel his skin again. He was very cold. I let my finger pass down between his eyebrows, tracing the slightly raised, silvery scar that ran from beneath his eye almost to his jawbone, eventually just curling my entire hand up against his throat, tucking it underneath his chin, where I could feel his pulse humming beneath my fingers.

With the other hand, I touched his mouth, very, very softly, letting my fingers rest lightly on his lips, bending my face down to his. It was just like when I'd crept over to him on that night, and ended up asleep there on the sofa with him…just like I had then, watching him settle into sleep beneath me, with this goofy, uncontrollable smile pulling at my mouth, I pressed my lips to the bridge of his nose, just between his eyes, nuzzling at his face with mine.

He stirred, frown lines creasing his forehead, moving back from my touch irritably. "Mmmphf," he muttered, his eyelids flickering.

My heart hammering wildly, I lurched backwards, overbalanced, and toppled over onto the floor, waiting for him to wake up.

He didn't.

_You are one lucky dude, Tyson, _I told myself as he shifted slightly and then gave a small sigh. _If he'd woken up…_

You know, I just didn't even want to think about it.

OK, that had _not_ been the brightest thing in the world to do, but ever since I found him I'd been longing just to touch him again. He was safe. That was all that mattered now.

I think that was when I heard the door opening, and a loud babble of voices spilled through the air. Cool. The guys were home. That meant I could pretend I hadn't eaten yet and get someone to fix me up a second breakfast. They were going to wake Kai up if they kept yelling like that, though.

After a few minutes of listening to everyone settling down, the door to the bedroom slid open, and Maxie bounced in, looking very cold, and a little wet from the rain, but also very pleased about something. His smile widened when he saw me. "Hey! Tyson! You're up! How are you?"

"Shhh!" I hissed, scrambling to my feet and leaping across the room, clamping a hand across his mouth. I said into his ear, "You'll wake him up!"

"Sorry," he whispered from behind my hand. "I didn't realise he was still asleep."

"It's cool," I whispered back. "Where were you guys?"

"The White Tigers flew in for the Tournament, so we picked them up and helped them find the hotel." He grinned wickedly. "Of course, Rei went off with Mariah…and no one's heard from them since…but we're all assuming that they're having a _great_ time…"

Awww, how cute. Remind me to tease Rei mercilessly when I get the chance.

I started to say something, but the Chief wandered in then, looking kind of flushed. He jumped when he saw Maxie and me, and laughed nervously, and said, in this high-pitched little voice, "Oh…hi, Tyson…glad to see you're up…has anyone…um…er…I'll just…" He laughed squeakily again, and rushed back out of the room.

I blinked.

Maxie, giggling uncontrollably, said, "The All Starz were on the same flight. I could be wrong, but I think I saw Emily _winking_ at Kenny…"

"Everyone's falling in love!" Daichi moaned, mooching in and slouching against the wall. "It's so boring."

"Oh, great. Did you have to bring the brat with you?" I muttered to Maxie.

"Hey!" Daichi protested, glaring up at me. "At least _I'm_ not the one hitting on Kai all the time."

Whoa.

That was unexpected.

"And what's that supposed to mean, you little runt?" I snapped, completely forgetting the fact that I was supposed to be keeping my voice down.

Daichi just smirked. "Heh, you know what I mean, Tyson. I guess your little lovey-dovey, mushy-gushy _romance_ isn't a secret after all…"

"That is not funny, man!" I yelled.

"But it's true!" he gloated, and then started cooing, "_Kai and Tyson, sitting in a tree…_"

I _was_ going to jump on him and strangle him, but Maxie, still laughing his head off, held me back. "Just you finish that," I warned Daichi, fighting against Maxie's hold. "Come on…say it, dude, say it, and you will be _so_ dead!"

"_K – I – S – S…"_

"Daichi!"

"Guys! Keep it down!" Maxie cut in suddenly, jerking his head back towards the sofa. I realised that poor old Kai was still trying to sleep. Right. I was just going to have to torture Daichi some other time.

"You," I whispered to him, "are toast."

"Yeah, yeah, you wish," he snickered, and darted out through the door again.

"One day I'm going to _get_ that…that ignorant little loser…" I grumbled.

"Hey, chill, Tyson," Maxie said, still speaking in an undertone.

"Stupid kid," I muttered, stomping back over to the sofa and sitting down again, after making sure that Kai was still asleep, reached for the box of crackers and stuffed three into my mouth at once. Maxie sat down next to me, peering over at Kai's sleeping face, smiling a little when he saw Dranzer.

"How's old Mr Grumpy doing?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said, my mouth full. "He hasn't woken up yet. I'm just letting him sleep." I grinned. "Hey! I just thought of something! This means I can yell at _him_ for sleeping in this time!"

"Have you been with him the whole time?"

"Yup. Since I woke up. Hey, if he's not going to bother looking after himself, then I'll just do it for him."

He laughed, and winked at me, and said, "That's our Tyson. Kai's lucky to have you, bud."

I said, kind of wistfully, and completely without thinking, "Dude, I'm lucky to have him."

Maxie was quiet for a little bit, and then said, in this small, affectionate voice, "You _do_ like him, don't you?"

OK.

Think fast.

Call me crazy, but I happen to have a problem with lying to my friends. It makes me feel kind of low. But no matter how bad it might make me feel about myself, no way could I tell _anyone_ about this – not even Maxie. It would be like betraying Kai, and I wasn't even going to think about doing that. I didn't know what his feelings were, and I wasn't going to go splashing stuff around that might hurt him.

So I forced a laugh, and said, unconsciously rubbing the back of neck, "Aha, ha…why would you think that? I mean, I don't…that's…that sort of thing is just, like, wrong."

He looked at me intently, and then shrugged. "If you say so," he said. "But, Tyson…hey, you can think what you like, but I've always figured that…well, I always kind of thought that, if you really love someone, it doesn't matter if they're girl or if they're a guy."

You know, there are times when I feel so lucky to have friends like Maxie.

I just stared down at my hands. All I could say was, "Um. Yeah. I, uh…I guess you're right."

"Tyson, it's OK," he insisted, with this small hint of laughter in his voice.

"What is?"

"You two," he said, simply. "You and…you and Kai. You love each other, don't you?"

Oh, man.

I _wish._

I didn't want to shoot Maxie down, not after he'd been so nice, but this was still between me and Kai. So I said, "Maxie…I…dude, you and the others…you're the best friends I could ever have, and I want to tell you guys everything, but…Kai…I don't think he…likes me, and…I…" I was not getting anywhere. Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair, and decided to pull the biggest, most apologetic grin I could. "You get what I'm saying, right?"

He shook his head, and said, warmly, "No. Hey, forget I said anything. Just…we're here for you, Tyson. All of us. We promise."

"I know," I said, punching him on the shoulder. "Hey, I'm me, right? Everyone loves me."

"Oh, dear," Maxie sighed. "I think you need food…you're starting to get delusional again…"

"Food?" I asked, brightly.

"You stay here," he said. "I'm going to see what's in the kitchen."

"Alright!" I cheered, and then clapped my hands over my mouth as Kai muttered something in his sleep.

"Hey, keep your voice down," Maxie laughed, and left.

Leaving me alone with Kai.

I scooched around on my knees, turning back to the sofa, leaning over Kai to make sure that he was still OK, and carefully brushing his hair away from his face.

His eyes opened, slowly, and he stared up at me blearily, snatching my hand away from his face, I said, loudly and cheerfully, "Hey, Kai! How're you feeling, buddy?"

He said, quietly, blinking a little, "Hello, Tyson." Then he gave a small gasp, and looked down quickly. Seeing Dranzer, he relaxed, and lay back again, and smiled up at me, just one of those soft, tender, adorable little smiles that I hardly ever got to see. Feeling this little shiver of happiness zip through me, I grinned back, and unconsciously reached out and touched his cheek again, just the softest, quickest touch.

Guess what?

He kept smiling.

* * *

Gah. Boring. Weird. Pointless. I'm trying to keep this going for another two or three chapters, so this was just a filler…ah, well.

The extra-specially good news is that I'm FINALLY done with theory…I sat the Grade Five exam on Wednesday! Which means no more transposition! EVER! Of course, starting from next year, I'm taking music as one of my main subjects, so I've got harmony classes to look forward to. Joy. Now I just need to prepare for my piano exam…_(shudders)_…I just hope I get to do voice training next year instead.

Sorry. Rambling.

Anyway, THANKS for all the encouragement so far! PLEASE keep the reviews coming…I really, really, really do drool over every single one! I'll try to update this soon, promise!


	10. Homework

**Reshki's notes:** Ack. Last chapter was rushed, awful, and was only posted because I had total writer's block and it was the best I could do under the circumstances. Sorry. This one's a little better, I thinketh, apart from seeing Kai at his most OOC yet. _(groans)_ This romance business is so HEAVY…I need to get back to doing more humorous stuff. Another chapter of _Don't even ask_ is in the works…it now features Tala as the Big Bad Wolf! Guess who gets to be Little Red Riding Hood – go on, just guess.

**Disclaimer:** I have two words for you: the first one is _not_, and the second one is _mine_.

**Warnings:** An abundance of OOCness, a VERY flimsy plot device, and shonen-ai.

* * *

**Chapter Ten:**

**Homework**

It was a cool, quiet afternoon, heavily overcast with white-grey clouds. I was sitting on the porch outside the dojo, alone, fiddling with Dranzer again. I knew I was going to have to do some serious training to make up for the past week. I was disgusted at myself. I'd spent the time moping around like some pathetic, nauseating little schoolgirl whose crush had just turned her down.

After a while, the trip back to Japan blurred into a lifeless, ashen smear of tiredness, and by the time I had arrived at the dojo, I'd been practically clinging to Tyson just keep from collapsing. I was such an idiot…I couldn't afford the luxury of being upset over something as pointless as a _crush_. I was a Beyblader, first and foremost – and now a week of near-sleeplessness, little food and no training could have severely damaged my chances of doing well in the Tournament.

_Well, then_, I told myself calmly, _you're just going to have to work extra hard, aren't you?_

Getting up, I surveyed the ground. It was still slightly soft from the morning's rain, which meant that it would offer a high resistance, and would hopefully be enough of a challenge get back me back into practice. Slowly, carefully, I clicked Dranzer into place in the launcher, and inserted the ripcord. I decided to start out with a few basic launches and speed runs, and began counting down slowly under my breath out of sheer habit before yanking the ripcord out, sending Dranzer spinning out across the soft ground.

It felt good to be Beyblading again. Life has always been much simpler when I could focus on one thing and one thing alone. You blade to get stronger, to deepen your understanding of dedication, to test yourself and your endurance.

That's all that matters.

I watched Dranzer begin to speed up, zigzagging across the ground, churned-up clods of mud spraying up in its wake, feeling the familiar white-hot power surge through me. Good. I hadn't fallen behind that badly, after all. Dranzer picked up speed, racing around the roots of trees, leaping over small stones. I leaned back against the pillar, wrapping my arms around myself, watching my blade dart through the mud, the pale sunlight that stabbed through the clouds lancing off the metal, glinting coldly through the darkening air.

_Clash!_

There was Dragoon, spinning, dancing around Dranzer teasingly, the two blades nudging together, racing each other, careering across the ground. A sword of surprise shore through me; my chest tightening with painful pleasure, I swallowed, suddenly finding my throat dry and scratchy. I didn't dare to look up at him. I was terrifyingly aware of the warmth of his body next to mine, of the slight sound of his breathing, lightened by laughter.

Tyson.

He'd been standing next to me for a total of three seconds, and my heart was already beginning to flutter out of control. I acknowledged silently that I was hopeless, feeling blood rush to my face, tingles of apprehension spreading to every corner of my body.

For me, he'd always been the one stable, infallible thing, the constant that kept me in check, the one I had to beat, the one I had to know was safe, the one who kept me strong. No matter what I tried to do, I couldn't deny of those feelings. I couldn't deny how powerful, how _alive_ I felt when I was around him, and I couldn't deny that I enjoyed it.

All I could do was keep it hidden.

"Yeah, how'd d'you like that, dude?" he cheered, as Dragoon came circling back and leapt up into his open hand. He repositioned it in his launcher, and asked, brightly, "So? Feel like a Beybattle?"

"No thanks," I said, a little stiffly, cautiously taking the time to focus on slowing my breathing. If I hadn't known better, I would have said I was blushing. I don't _blush_. Sentimental idiots _blush_. How pathetic was I if I started acting like some lovesick loser every time he even spoke to me? My stomach was already twisted into nervous knots just from being around him, and I knew that if I even looked him in the eyes for the smallest instant I would lose control again.

I don't like losing control.

"Ah, come on, dude! Why not?" he asked, clumsily sitting down cross-legged on the porch next to the pillar. "Hey, you're chicken, aren't you? Well, you should be. It's only fair to warn you that I bladed with Tala a lot while I was taking time out from trying to save your neck, and let me tell you, I _so_ trounced him."

Dranzer whirred to my feet, and I leant down and picked it up, wiping the mud from its attack ring with slow, meticulous care, very conscious that Tyson was still watching me, waiting for an answer. I noticed that my fingers were shaking, and felt like kicking something. This was nonsense. What is wrong with me? Some kid smiles at me and defeats me a couple of times in a Beybattle, and the next thing you know, I can't even _think_ about him without making a complete fool of myself. Still staring intently at Dranzer, I said, as firmly as I could, "I don't feel like it, Tyson."

"Pretty please?"

"No." Having made sure that Dranzer was still in good condition, I slipped it back into my pocket. I would just have to find somewhere else to train – somewhere away from Tyson.

I began to walk away slowly, deliberately, my shoes sinking into the soft ground. I wanted to stay with him more than I could believe; leaving him behind without even _looking_ at him was almost more than I could take. I had to do it, though; there wasn't any question about it. He didn't love me, and I refused to force him into faking any more sympathy for me. Depending on other people is stupid. All you have to do is make sure that you can depend on yourself, and then you're set for life. Simple.

That didn't mean that walking away from him didn't hurt, though.

"Dude! Get back here!" he called after me.

I said nothing.

"Hey! You! Kai! I am _warning_ you, man!"

"Get lost, Tyson!" I spat back, viciously, still not turning around.

I heard an exclamation of anger and a series of dulled footfalls, and then felt his hand close around my elbow, sending tingly, shivery ripples running across my skin. "Geez! Do you _ever_ take a break from being such a grump?" he complained.

"I think you can answer that question for yourself," I snapped, keeping my eyes firmly downcast. "Back _off_."

"Kai, if you think that I am _ever_ going to let you out of my sight again, then there is just something _way_ wrong with you," he informed me. "Uh-uh. Not happening. I am sticking with you, dude, and that is final."

Typical Tyson - tactless, devastatingly straightforward, heart-wrenchingly sincere. Trying and failing to ignore what his touch was doing to me, I found myself smiling at the ground in spite of the miserable ache building in my chest, and drew in a quick, deep breath of suppressed longing. "Whatever," I said. "Just don't expect any deep and meaningful conversations about how wonderful life is, because I'm afraid I'm fresh out."

"Hah! Alright!" he crowed. "Hey, what do you say we head down to the river? See, I kind of have some school stuff to finish up before the vacation ends, and it's so _boring_ just sitting inside doing it, and seeing as you're, like, a straight-A genius or whatever, I figured you could maybe help me out a bit."

"If you feel like picking someone's brains, I suggest you try Kenny," I said, neutrally, raging inwardly at myself. I should, I told myself, have forcibly pulled his hand off my arm, hopefully crushing a few fingers in the process to help the message sink in, and stalked off.

"Nah, he's too busy. He _says_ he's still upgrading Strata Dragoon for the Tournament and stuff, but Hil and Daichi sneaked a look at his laptop the other day, and we're pretty sure that the Chief runs Ming Ming's biggest fansite…so? You coming?"

It was as though he'd already forgotten everything; as though he had simply decided to pretend nothing had ever happened. That wasn't usually the sort of thing he did, I realised confusedly. Usually, he would nag and nag until he got the answer he wanted; I could testify to that, anyway. It was strange. I turned to face him, finally, and saw him smiling at me, brightly, comfortably, but with the smallest touch of resignation in it. I understood what he as doing, then: he wasn't talking about it because he knew I didn't want to.

He had grown up more than I'd realised.

For a very long moment, we held each others' gaze, his simple, open, caring smile making me want to forget all the pretending, forget all the forced, determined indifference, and just _tell_ him how grateful I was to him, how much I needed him there with me. Then he winked, and jerked his head back, and said, "Cool. I'll take that as a yes. I just need to swing by my room and find my maths stuff. Let's go."

So I followed him inside, and ended up leaning calmly against the wall while he ransacked the pile of school bags that had been dumped down at the end of the semester two months ago. "I _know_ I brought it home – " he was muttering. "Gah! Where is it? Stupid book – argh!"

"Hey, Kai," Rei said through a yawn as he stuck his head around the door, sipping at a mug of coffee. "Um…Tyson hasn't lost his homework again, has he?"

"It's not lost!" Tyson shouted, emptying the contents of Max's bag onto the floor and searching through the piles of crumpled paper. "I know exactly where it is! It's around here somewhere, I know it! I do!"

"Well, _someone's_ in denial," I muttered to my folded arms.

"You got it," Rei agreed, laughing.

"So how's Mariah doing, Rei?" Tyson asked, meaningfully, glaring up at him.

"Oh, very funny," Rei replied, flushing slightly. "If you're looking for your maths book, I know where it is."

"Where?" Tyson yelled, leaping off the floor and practically throwing himself at Rei. I snickered disdainfully as he clutched at Rei's shirt, almost sending the coffee flying, pleading, "Where? Where? Dude! Tell me!"

"Only if you promise to lay off about Mariah."

"Ah, no fair!" Tyson whined. "It's so fun messing with you about it…what time did you get in last night? After two, wasn't it? Heh, go Rei."

"Oh, well, I guess your work will never be completed, and you'll fail next year, and…"

"Alright, alright! No teasing you about your love life, I protect your sensitive little ego, everyone's happy, blah, blah, blah. _Where's my maths book?_"

"On top of the DVD player, and blame Daichi, not me."

"Yes! Thank you, man!" He let go of Rei and rushed out of the room, yelling as he did so, "Come on, Kai! Get moving already!"

I shook my head, and pushed myself off from the wall, only to catch Rei grinning at me. "Got a problem?" I snapped.

"You were smiling," he said, teasingly. "I saw you. You were smiling at Tyson the _whole_ time he was in here."

"And your point is?" I asked, belligerently.

"Hey, relax," he said, defensively, gulping down some more coffee. "I didn't say anything. Go help Tyson face the evils of schoolwork. I'm going to back to sleep. There isn't enough caffeine in this stuff."

As I followed the sounds of Tyson's swearing and Daichi's yelling into the TV room, I made sure that I kept my arms crossed and my eyes down, and that I wasn't smiling in the least.

* * *

The river shone a silvery-white underneath the delicate grey light that sifted down through the thick clouds. The grass was slightly damp, and the air smelled of stone and moss. We were sitting side-by-side on the bank of the river.

"Brrr! Why did we come out here again?" Tyson complained, huddling into himself.

"Your idea," I said, moodily skipping a pebble across the water, chewing at the blade of grass between my teeth.

"It's one of those days when you just want to stay inside all snuggled up playing PS2 the whole time, you know?"

"No."

He stuck his tongue out at me. "You just don't know how to have fun."

"You apparently don't know how to stop complaining."

"You don't know how to be _human_, dude!"

"Do your work and keep quiet."

He flopped down onto his stomach, resting his chin on one hand and sucking at his pencil, his textbook and his workbook spread out in front of him. "Ah, heck. I should have brought a calculator, this stuff's impossible…"

"If you actually paid attention _during_ school, it might help."

"What that's supposed to mean?" he asked, sounding hurt. "I pay attention! All the time!"

"Yeah, right," I said. I'd transferred to the same school that he, Daichi, Hilary and Kenny attended the year before, seeing as it had just made things easier – and I'd never liked my old school, anyway. Of course, transferring schools had also meant that I'd begun to have slight trouble concentrating in the classes he and I shared, although that wasn't something I was ever going to acknowledge. "I was watching you. You were staring at the clock for most of that last period. Pathetic."

"It was the last day, and I was dying of boredom…hey, how cool is it, anyway? We've only got one year of school left! I mean, I'm going to win the Tournament, graduate, and then it's off to university!"

"I wouldn't get any ideas if I were you," I told him, smiling lazily. "This Tournament is _mine_."

"Isn't that what you said last time?" he taunted.

"That was a long time ago," I informed him. "I'm winning this one." _For you_, I added silently, and then was appalled at myself for even thinking something so ridiculous.

Even if it was true.

Seeing him with Rei had hurt me, somehow. To see how friendly he was, and to see how friendly others were to him, and then compare it to how I treated him, made me feel rather ashamed. I'd never once proved myself to him. Oh, he told me often enough how happy he'd been when I had come back, but I refused to allow myself to believe it. All the time we'd been together, he'd been reaching out to me, trying to make me feel special, to feel wanted, and what had I ever done for him?

Nothing.

In some strange, completely illogical way, I'd always felt like winning was the only thing I could give him, was the only way I could show him how indescribably grateful I was for his friendship. If I could win, if I could keep on being the best, I could at least let him know that I had done it for him. I could at least show him that I cared.

"In your dreams, dude," he was saying, starting to scribble away again. "In your…dreams. Alright! First page done! Yeah! What's next?"

"Complete page 252, exercises four, five and nine," I recited, bored. "You're hopeless. I did this the afternoon school ended."

"Oh, good for you, Mr Smarty Pants. Show off how organised you are while the rest of us suffer." He gave a huge sigh, and rolled over onto his back, tucking his arms behind his head. "Man, I'm bored."

"Do your work."

"I don't want to."

"Shut up and do it."

"It's killing me, Kai…" he moaned to the empty sky. "I'm in mortal pain…help me…hey, I don't suppose I could just ask you do it all for me?"

"What do you think?" I asked, cuttingly.

"Erm…that you love me and are going to rescue me from the evil armies of mutant maths textbooks that are trying to annihilate me and conquer the universe while they're at it?"

"Wrong answer," I said, trying very hard not to smile.

"You're mean," he said, and sighed. "Page 252 it is." He rolled over onto his stomach again, pulled a face the textbook, and started writing again. I skipped another pebble, and then lay back in the long grass, gently plucking the strand of grass from my lips and twirling it between my fingers. Turning my face up to the pale air, I closed my eyes, enjoying the cool, damp breeze blowing across my skin, comforted by Tyson's proximity. Even if I was resigned now to the fact that he could never love me, I knew that, for today at least, we could be together.

I wasn't sure how long it was going to last, though. The only thing holding us together was Beyblading, and if this was going to be our retirement Tournament, as it probably would, what would happen after that? We'd go off to university together, and he'd make new friends, and I wouldn't, and although at first he would probably make an effort to see me, we would inevitably lose touch – and then what? I knew that I had to be realistic. The chances of our friendship lasting were slim. I knew also that I should be preparing myself for that, falling back into the old ways of silence and solitude, but I didn't know if I'd be able to manage it.

That week without had been the emptiest, most painful week of my life – and even then, I'd known that there was a small part of him that stubbornly continued to care for me. If we just ended up seeing less and less of each other, he would eventually forget me. I would be a childhood friend, my face blurring in his mind until I was nothing more than an empty, vaguely familiar name on the back page of a contacts book.

It frustrated me to think of it, because I knew that there was nothing I could do. Very few things last. I knew that. I tried to convince myself, as I had many, many times before, that it was just a crush, and that sooner or later I would get over it.

There were moments when I could almost believe that, but I hated to think it. What I felt for Tyson had to be more than that. Ever since he was thirteen, he'd been one of the key parts of my life, the one, brightly-burning thing that I had always clung to.

He had always seemed to radiate this energy, this brightness. He'd grown up so much since I'd first met him, and that brightness, that pure force, had become something deeper. He'd become a leader, someone whom people admired and looked up to. He just seemed to have an innate strength that ran through him, a dependability. He was so vibrant and spirited, so passionate in his outlook on life, that it was almost difficult to understand at times. Other people were drawn to him; and I, all my life, had hung back, watching over him from a distance, becoming prouder and prouder of him with every passing day, smiling at him in secret.

I just didn't want to lose him.

After a while, I cracked open an eye to see if he'd made any progress, or if he'd fallen asleep. He was lying on his back, his head tilted to the side, so that he was looking straight at me. Our gaze locked, and he smiled. It was strange; for a moment, there had been a flicker of nervousness in his expression.

Oh, great.

He was probably wondering whether I was going to jump him and start making out with him again. Then again, I couldn't blame him for being edgy around me. Being gratuitously kissed by one of his best friends couldn't exactly have been an everyday occurrence.

"I'm all done," he sang, happily. "And I didn't even need any of your help! Hah! So there, Kai! Eat that! I _can_ do stuff for myself."

I grunted. There wasn't much I could say to that. Besides, I knew perfectly well that he could do things for himself. I'd never told him how strong I knew he actually was; I'd been too busy shutting him off, putting him down.

"Aww, can't Kai think of anything rude to say? Little baby Kai isn't so tough after all, is he?"

I raised an eyebrow at him, and said, smoothly, "There are only so many times I can tell you that you're a lost cause, Tyson. If the message hasn't gotten through by now, I don't think it ever will."

"Hey!" he said. "Dude, I can't even _count_ how many times I've tried to get you to act nice, and you don't see me calling _you_ thick."

I laughed at that, helplessly, feeling something stupidly happy wriggle around in my stomach as I looked at him.

"Yeah! You see? Now you're in a good mood!" he said, sitting up. "C'mon! I'm bored. You want to do something? Grab something to eat?"

I shrugged.

"Please?"

"No."

"But I'm _starving_! Thinking makes you very hungry."

"You'll live."

"Alright, that does it," he said, jumping to his feet. "Dude, we are getting something to eat, and if you don't get up _right now_, you are going to have to pay for everything, and I mean that."

"Too bad." I was already starting to close my eyes again, but he reached down and grabbed my hand in both of his, and pulled me to my feet. I found myself swallowing, my heart beginning to beat thickly and heavily. I kept my eyes trained on his hands, which were still clutched around mine. It was suddenly more painful than ever to be _right there_, so close to him, and at the same time to be further away from him than ever. I _needed_ to hold him again, to press my face to his just one more time.

"Hey," he said, gently, squeezing my hand slightly. "I said no running off, right?"

"Right," I said, hoarsely, still staring at the ground.

"Then let's go already!" he said, bending down to pick up his textbook, releasing my hand. For want of something to do, I grabbed at his exercise book, which was still lying open in the grass, the pages covered with scribbled equations and wobbly diagrams. As we straightened up, I began closing the book to hand it back to him, but something caught my eye.

Scrawled absently in the margin of a page was my name.

For one stupid second, all I could think was, _Why would Tyson write _my _name in his _maths book?

There it was again, on the next page, surrounded by little smiley-faces and small hearts -and on the next, and the next…and, pasted haphazardly onto the very last page, was a small, black-and-white photograph of me, snipped out from a newspaper. I recognised it – it was one from the article that had been published about BEGA's formation, when I had been listed as one of its new top members. It looked distinctly as though the picture had been crumpled up in anger, then smoothed out again before being stuck carefully down.

It seemed as though Tyson _definitely_ hadn't been concentrating in maths.

I could feel blood singing through my head with shock. Some part of me was laughing almost hysterically, incredulously refusing to accept this, but some other part was drunkenly, breathlessly happy. It couldn't mean anything, could it? What? He…no. He…he…I couldn't focus. All I could think about was _him_. I was so dizzy I could hardly stand upright, and my heart was hammering away inside me so hard that I could almost feel my body shaking with each beat. I found myself smiling, sucking in deep, gasping breaths. Did this mean he…?

I looked up hopefully from the pages of the book into his eyes. For one moment, it looked like he was smiling at me, but then I realised that I was mistaken. He wasn't smiling at all.

He was crying.

His lips were folded defiantly, his chin stuck out, his fists clenched at his sides, and a small, steady stream of tears flowed down each cheek. He sniffed, hard, his face creasing up for a moment, and then said, slowly, "So now you know."

I didn't know what to say. I was completely thrown by seeing him cry. That hadn't exactly been what I was expecting. "Tyson…" I croaked out. I reached out to him with the hand that wasn't holding the book, but then let my arm fall back to my side. "…stop…crying."

"Kai…" he said, in a small, miserable little voice. He rubbed his hand over his eyes desperately, and took in a huge, shaky breath, and said, looking at me steadily, "I'm sorry, OK? I'm a big, stupid idiot, and you're going to hate me, and I'm sorry. I've messed it all up, and it's my fault. I know that."

I still couldn't think of anything to say that would actually improve the situation.

All I could do was reach out to him again, desperate to stop him crying, but this time he moved back, edging away from me. "Uh-uh," he said, shaking his head, sending tears flying everywhere. His lips were trembling now, but his eyes still held that defiant, proud look. He swallowed, and said, breathing deeply, "There is no _way_ I am doing this to you. I'm – look, Kai…oh, Kai…"

His voice broke, and for a moment it looked as though he were going to break down entirely, and I felt myself starting to go crazy with pain. It was horrible to see him like this…bitterly, I congratulated myself. It looked I'd managed to screw his life up.

Again.

He pulled himself together again, and continued, "…look, I'm sorry. I…wrote that stuff, and…because…I…I like you, OK? You're…you're strong and brave and…and I…I…like you _so much_, Kai, and I want to be with you, and you're going to hate me, but…I've just wanted to tell you forever, but I figured it would just be pointless, so I didn't, and…now you know, and everything's going to suck, so I'm just going to go, and…yeah. OK. I'm sorry. Bye."

"Don't you dare leave," I said, quietly. "Please. Tyson…"

"Kai, just drop it, OK?" he asked, his voice shaking. He looked so desolate, his face so empty and sad. I'd never seen him this hurt before. "Five years…five whole _years_ you've been driving me up the wall, I swear, and I…I just wanted to be with you…because you're _you_. And…I know I've ruined it now. OK? I get it, dude. It's over."

"No," I said, firmly. "I…you…we…"

He gave me one last look, his eyes clinging to my face. He said, just quietly, "I'll see you around, OK?" and then he turned, and ran.

It was like a part of me was being pulled away. The agony of emotions inside my chest was almost a physical, throbbing pain. He was hurt, he was crying, and I hadn't been able to say anything, and now he was gone, scrambling up the slope, and dashing off down the road, his shoulders shaking. I think I must have shouted after him, but he didn't stop.

I looked out at the silver water numbly, still holding the workbook in one hand. I felt slightly sick and bruised inside. This, I realised suddenly, must have been how he had felt when I had left: alone, betrayed, powerless, and empty. I'd never realised how much I'd hurt him over the years…but he had never seemed to mind…in fact, he had apparently _liked_ me…

How? Why? What had I ever done for him? He'd been the one who'd helped me, who'd reached out and touched my life, who'd forced me to care. I _loved_ him. No one had ever been as close to me, had ever, ever believed in me so fiercely.

Oh, Tyson. Oh, my Tyson.

As it began to rain, I sat down on the wet grass, drew my knees up to my chin, and, deciding that if my pride was the only thing I had left to lose, I might as well lose it, cried.

* * *

Urgh. Don't say I didn't warn you about the OOCness. What is this pseudo-Kai creature I have created, anyway? Some kind of overly-hormonal Mary-Sue wearing face paint and a scarf? _(shudders)_ Sorry. These last few chapters have been BAD…

Well, even though theory's over, a not-so-fun little bit of evilness known as 'my Grade Six piano practical exam' is just around the corner…and seeing as I've been slacking badly for a while now, I have _got_ to get working. Anyway, don't expect an update until around the beginning of November. I might post the next chapter of _The Midnight Feast_ a bit sooner, though.

The review button is caaaaalling to yoooooou…cliiiiiiick on the review button…


	11. Of Love and Cold Water

**Reshki's Notes:** Short chapter, seeing as it's the penultimate one, and seeing as I'm posting the next one directly after it. Just a lot of Tyson-angst.

**Disclaimer:** Beyblade and the characters used are not mine.

**Warnings:** Erm…shonen-ai _thoughts_. No actual kissing until next chapter…

* * *

**Chapter Eleven:**

**Of Love and Cold Water **

It was like the whole world was grey. The dark, wet tar of the roads blurred into the cold, flat monotony of the sidewalks, until everything was just one great, big, stupid old blur of emptiness.

I was running so fast I thought my head might explode, my feet slamming into the rain-wet ground, blood thudding through me. I slipped a couple times, but pushed myself straight back up and kept on going. I didn't even know where I was headed. I was just so completely freaked out that I couldn't stop running. I was dead scared that Kai was going to come after me, and…and…do…what?

You know, I had no clue.

What kind of reaction _is_ that, anyway? Just…staring? And…gaping?

Well, he is Kai, after all.

I kept running. It was raining, hard, the drops tearing down through the silver mist and slamming into me. My legs were trembling, and my chest was burning, my throat raw. The wind drove its fingers into my eyes with a cool, chemical sting, and tears splattered down my cheeks before being washed away by the rain. I was sobbing as I ran, gulping down these huge, scratchy breaths of air that made me shudder, until my entire body felt bruised and aching, heavy and slow and fumbling with exhaustion. I kept on and on going, though; it was like I couldn't stop.

Ok, I think we should just get something straight here: I'm not a quitter. If I start something, I finish it, and I don't back down from challenges. I just don't. Thing is, running off like that – that hadn't been quitting. There was no _way_ I could ever face him again after that. It's not something you can understand unless you've been in love. I mean, it's like, you have to keep that person _safe_, no matter what the cost; every other stupid thing doesn't matter, especially not yourself.

If Kai would really and truly be happiest with me out of his life, then fine. No more Tyson hanging around getting on his nerves. The only reason I ever did, anyway, was 'cause I figured I could maybe make him feel a little better. There've been a lot of times when I thought that maybe he actually _did_ like having me around. I mean, he smiles when he's with me, right? And he hardly _ever_ smiles around anyone else…I guess I just figured maybe I _had_ meant something to him, once upon a time.

But now that I'd gone and screwed up big-time, if he didn't want me around him anymore, then I guess I could understand why. I mean, if I were straight, I guess I wouldn't exactly be all thrilled to have my best guy friend start hitting on me. It would totally jeopardise the friendship, which would suck. After all Kai had done for me, I couldn't start freaking him out like that. I just _couldn't_. Not him.

So I kept running.

You know, I wasn't cold, despite the rain: I felt like I was being heated from within by this filmy, feverish warmth that throbbed in my blood and thrashed against my temples. My hands were clenched so tightly that I could feel my nails biting my palms, pressing little half-moons of discomfort into my skin. I was totally drenched by now, my skin sticky and clammy, the droplets flowing down me everywhere. I was almost completely blind: my eyes swollen with tears and squeezed tight against the driving rain, the world obscured by a grey, misty haze. My lip was bleeding slightly where I had chewed it open; I could taste blood on my tongue, bitter and watery. Yuck. I hate the taste of blood. It tastes of cruelty, and makes me want to throw up.

My foot slipped, and with this weird, almost slow-motion swoop, I hit the ground, hard, my palm smacking against the gritty sidewalk. My breath was knocked out of me, and I lay there for a long while, my cheek pressed to the ground, feeling weak and shaky. The rain was falling thicker than ever now, the drops ashen and sticky, striking against my skin so hard that it felt like I was being bruised, then rolling down my arms slowly and smoothly. The only sounds in the whole world were the hissing, sighing sounds of the rain, and the cold, persistent thudding of my heart against my ribs. Slowly, I sat up, and drew my knees up to my chest, and cuddled up into myself, hunching my shoulders up against the rain. I was still crying. I didn't think I was ever going to be able to _stop_ crying.

OK, so _really_ not a good day.

Just then, I needed a friend. I really wanted to go home, back to the dojo, but I knew that Kai would be there, sulking in some random corner, as always. I just needed to _talk_ to someone – _anyone_ who wasn't going to spend the rest of his life thinking I was some kind of freakshow stalker. Kenny, or Maxie, or Hil, or Rei – heck, I'd even have been glad to see _Daichi_ right about then.

But I was all alone.

Huddled there on the corner of the sidewalk, my chin resting on my knees, hiccoughing painfully every now and then, shivering like crazy, you know what I felt like? I felt like a wet, miserable blob on a wet, miserable street in a wet, miserable world.

I sniffed. This was not getting me anywhere. It sucked, and it was one of the worst things that had ever happened to me, but I knew that moping around was not going to help much. Besides…what would Kai think if he saw me here, crying like some little kid? I wasn't a hyperactive thirteen-year-old anymore. I was practically eighteen, and you know, I'd started to realise that I could do stuff for myself – and, way more importantly, that I could do stuff for other people.

Like letting them go and get on with their lives, if I really loved them, and if they just didn't love me.

Kai…oh, man. I only have to _hear_ his name, and immediately all I can think about is proving myself better than him. What? He just annoys me so much, and pisses me off so much, that I want to _make_ him see that I actually can do things right, that I am just as good as him – and yet at the same time, it's like I know I can't ever be like him. He's the best blader I've ever known, and there's not a lot you can say after that. It's like, you look at him, and all you can see is strength, is this insane, massive, limitless power. I'm telling you, there are no words that can say how much I look up to him.

Heh, and if I like irritating him? So what? It's fun. Just 'cause he's so gifted it doesn't mean he has to act like he's the only person in the whole universe.

But, really, in the end, I do…admire him, and respect him, and…love him. For his strength, and his loyalty, and for that soft, sad little smile of his, and for all the things we've been through together, and for all the times he's saved my neck, and for all the times I've wanted to half _kill_ him, and for…everything.

In a lot of ways, all I ever wanted was to be accepted by him. He's my role model, my inspiration, someone who keeps me going, keeps me strong. I'd always wanted him to think that about me, too. I…I wanted to be the reason he kept going. That sounds kind of weird, I know, but…I wanted to be the one he depended on. I wanted to be able to help him. I wanted him to trust me enough to be able to talk to me about anything. I wanted to be _his_ Tyson, the way he was _my_ Kai.

I…just really wanted him to love me, too.

But I was _not_ going to act like some little wimp because of what had happened. I was not going to give him the chance to call me weak – not now, not ever. I'd spent half the time I'd known him trying to get him to talk more, trying to make sure that he was OK, and even though I knew I was never going to be able to stop worrying about him, even though I knew that I was never going to be happy again until I knew that he was safe, I figured that by now, I could trust him to look after himself.

I hoped.

I was going to be strong for him, I told myself. I was going to go back home, and…and…well, basically, it was his call. If he didn't want to speak to me ever again, then I could do that. If he wanted to act like none of it had ever happened, then I could do that, too. If he wanted, in some totally impossible way, to still be friends with me after this – yeah, right, very funny – then I could even do that.

I didn't care if it meant spending every single stupid day with him and never, _ever_ being able to touch him; I didn't care if it meant that every time I looked at him I would have to be reminded of this. I could do it. I knew I could, because it was for him.

Just about everything I ever did was for him – for Kai.

So I swallowed, hard, and screwed my eyes up tight, holding back the tears that were already pooling behind the lids, hot and red and choking. I clenched my fists, and let one hand slip to the small holster strapped to my arm, giving Dragoon a quick, tight squeeze. Still keeping my eyes closed, I lifted my face up to the sky, letting the hard, heavy droplets slam into my face, snaking down through my hair, tingling against my scalp.

In a weird way, I could almost feel the wind moving before it actually blew; I could almost sense the massive, open expanse of the sky above me, feel the soft, swirling softness of the clouds massing and drifting. I've felt that kind of thing before - like when there's a storm, and you can just about taste the sheer, crushing weight of the thunder, feel the lightning darting out between the clouds like this giant, white-hot, sizzling sting of exhilaration. Hey, I like thunderstorms. Big deal. It's 'cause of Dragoon, I guess.

And right then, I knew that I could get through this. I still had my friends – I was always going to have my friends – and I still had blading. I had Dragoon. Not like any of it was _ever _going to be the same without Kai, but I'd get through it – for him.

So I opened my eyes. Every few seconds more tears would run down my face, and I couldn't stop them. There's no law against crying, right? So I got up, and tried to smile. I didn't manage it.

You know why?

'Cause standing right there in the rain, his nose in the air, his arms crossed, was Kai.

* * *

If you haven't seen my profile yet, you should know that I'm leaving after this fic is done – for many stupid little reasons that basically add up to me being completely random, and proud of it. I'll still appreciate any reviews though…and will still hint shamelessly to get them…heh, heh…_(gazes hopefully at readers)_


	12. Forever

**Thanks to:** Everyone who reviewed. You guys are the best bit about that most formative part of every fangirl's adolescence, namely, the Fanfiction Experience.

**Warnings:** Utter mush. (_grins)_ That translates from Reshki-speak into 'shonen-ai', which translates from fangirl Japanese into 'guy-on-guy stuff'. Wow! A kiss that _doesn't_ end in tears. Now there's something new. Also, I'm operating on the assumption that Voltaire is dead or in jail, and that everything he owned has passed to Kai (convenient, no?). There's also a PoV change in the middle. I usually don't like doing those, but I had to this time.

**Disclaimer:** Ain't no characters o' mine in this here fic, y'all.

**Dedication:** To my bestest-best bud ever, **Ranger**. _(leaps onto a horse, waves sword around madly, and rides off to conquer Middle-earth and abduct as many insanely gorgeous elves as possible)_ Even though I haven't seen you in ages, I still love you to death - and, dude, a small heads-up for you? I will SO be bringing water balloons to that hypothetical little wedding of yours. _(ROTFL at personal joke no one else will understand)_.

**Reshki's Notes:** It's done, and I'm gone. Over and out. _(sniffs, bows, and exits, stage left)_

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**Chapter Twelve:**

**Forever**

He was standing there, soaking wet from the rain, water streaming down his face. His mouth was set, his arms folded, his whole expression saying, _Well, it's not like I actually _want_ to be here, you know_.

Yeah, typical Kai.

My heart felt like it was going to crack right in half. This wave of fear and longing just crashed down on me. It's kind of dumb, I know, but I am just so crazy about that guy. The rain was shimmering all around him, making him glow with this silvery-white light, so that he looked almost like he was made of bright, crystalline gold, his hair all messed-up and dishevelled, his skin paler than ever, the steady, aloof, uncaring power staring down at me coldly from his eyes.

Sometimes, before, when he was around me, I used to get the feeling that he was happy. Sometimes, he'd smiled at me…

He wasn't smiling now.

That made me feel worse than ever, because it was like knowing, finally, irrevocably, that he just didn't love me. I felt my chin wobble, and the tears leap out from my eyes harder than ever, but I held my breath, and swallowed hard, and suddenly found that I was OK. I had managed to stop crying. I wasn't going to let him see me upset. I was going to be strong.

"Hey, Kai," I said, giving him this little wry smile, like I was saying, _OK, it sucked, I know, now can we just please move on?_

"Tyson," he said, nodding slightly, and that was it. His gaze just slipped away from mine, and he turned his head, slightly, so that he was looking firmly into the distance, over my shoulder. OK. So he'd come running after me this time, instead of the other way around. That was a positive development.

But I knew it didn't mean anything.

And even though I knew that, I still wanted to clear the air. I wanted to _tell_ him that I loved him, just so that it was out, finally – and I wanted to get it through his thick head that I would do _anything_ for him. If he didn't want any friends, if he didn't want anyone around him at all, then whatever. I would leave him alone, but I would never, _ever_ stop caring about him. I couldn't. He was practically my entire _life_. If he needed me, I'd be there.

Thing is, how do you actually _say_ all that?

You don't. You don't say things like that. You stumble and you stutter and you shout, and you eventually manage to get something out, but you can't explain that kind of thing. You can only show it.

I was…gazing at him, I guess, wanting so much just to _touch_ him again, just to hold him once last time. It hurt, badly, knowing that he was going to go away, knowing that he was going to be out of my life forever, and that nothing I could say could change that. My stomach was tingling with nervousness, and I almost choked getting the words out, but eventually, I said, in this tiny little voice, "Hey – are you going to say anything, dude?"

"That depends," he said, smoothly.

Remind me to do something evil to him one day.

"On what?" I asked. "Geez, don't _do_ this to me. What, you walked all the way through the rain to say two words? Come on." I took a deep breath, and said, slowly, willing myself not to do anything stupid, like bursting into tears or blowing up in his face, "Look, I know that…I'm sorry, OK? I know that you think I'm some kind of freak now, and I don't care, because you can think what you want, but if you want to say something, just say it, 'cause standing here waiting for it is killing me."

He looked at me, then, with this strange, unreadable expression: his eyes were dark, his hair plastered to his face, and he was chewing on his lip. It was almost like he'd been hurt, somehow – and there again, just like I'd seen those other times when we'd come so close to kissing, was that look of defeat, of vicious self-hatred, of total, devastating despair. It was like he'd done the worst thing he could ever have thought of doing, and was furious at himself for it. It frightened me. Seriously worried, I asked, my voice almost breaking, "Kai? _Kai?_ What's wrong?"

"Tyson," he said, again, with this soft ache in his voice. "It's not your fault. I'm the one who should be apologising."

"Hey, it's OK, man," I said, still slightly freaked-out at the expression on his face. I hated when he was upset…I _hated_ it… "Seriously, I get it. I'm sorry I acted so stupid."

"You _didn't_," he said, crossly. "I did. You were crying, Tyson – you were hurt, and you were sad, and I stood there doing nothing. That's _my_ fault, in case you hadn't realised."

"You don't have to blame yourself," I muttered, looking down. "I was the one who ran off."

"How many times have_ I_ run off?" he asked, quietly, dangerously. "I don't know, Tyson, because I've lost count. I can tell you one thing for sure, though: every single time, you were the one who brought me back. That's not something I'm going to forget."

Well, what the heck was _that_ supposed to mean? "Hey, I couldn't just let you go," I said, lightly, still looking at the ground. "I mean…Kai…I…"

"Why?" he asked.

"Because…I…" Hey, good question. Why _did_ I keep chasing him all over the place, anyway? Sometimes I think he's my personal pain-in-the-butt. I had a pretty good idea of why, actually. The words just rushed out of me, tearing their way out. "You want to know why? Because…because…because when I look at you, Kai, I know that there's always going to be someone keeping me safe, pulling me back up, and – and _forcing_ me to keep on going." It was like everything I'd been trying to say for ages was finally coming out. "If – if it's for you, I know I can make it. You keep me strong, dude, because I look at you, and I think that - if I could just be _half_ as good as you, then I know I could call myself a Beyblader for sure. If I could be like you – if I could be as strong and…and brave as you – if I could give you all the things you've given me…then maybe you'd like me." I took in a deep breath before continuing. "I don't mean like, _like_ me, 'cause I know that can't ever happen – I'm not stupid, but – I want you as my friend, Kai. You – mean so much to me, and I want to know I'm important to you, too, even just the littlest bit…and now…argh…"

This was not working. I couldn't even get the words out right; I couldn't even look at him. I was staring at the sidewalk, feeling the rain spatter down on me. How could I explain the days and days and days of worrying about him, of feeling like more than half of me was missing, like some part of me had been broken and pulled away and lost, disappearing into the cold, featureless nothingness from which nothing ever came back…how was I supposed to explain how much I loved him?

I wished he would just go, so that I could get out of here – but I didn't want to go until I'd actually told him. It was only fair that he knew, and that he understood, and that we got it all cleared up. Then he could go, and he could get on with his life, and he could leave me behind, and he could be _happy_.

That was all I wanted.

Truly, deeply, with all my heart, I knew that he was all that mattered. I couldn't give him half the stuff that he had given me; I couldn't ever repay him for his loyalty and his guidance and his strength; but I could give him the truth, and I could give him freedom.

When he spoke, his voice was hard and clear, just like always, but it still had that small,darkmisery in it. "Tyson…you're the only person I've ever cared about at all - and I admire you more than anyone else. You're the reason I keep going, Tyson. I want you to know that."

"I know, Kai," I said, and I did know. I knew that he'd valued me – but as his friend, and that just made it all worse, because, in a small way, he _had _depended on me, and I had ruined it. Like our friendship was ever going to be able to go back to the way it was. Hah. "I know – that – and – I…"

OK. Now or never, Tyson. Just get it all sorted out, and then walk away. With the rain pouring down, and with every single part of my body shaking with apprehension, flooded with yearning, I looked up, and looked into his eyes. For a split second of panic, my stomach wrenched, and my throat grew tight, and I almost started crying again, but I held myself together.

You know why? Because _I had to be strong for him._

Looking straight at him, holding his gaze, which was carefully, unworriedly blank, I said, firmly, "I love you." Something in his face flickered. "I'm telling you, because it's not fair otherwise. And, look, Kai, I know that it's impossible, and I _know_ that you don't…love…me, and I don't mind. I get it. I just…want you to know, because I've been trying to show you how much you mean to me for as long as I've known you, and even if you didn't get it, or if you don't care, I still – love you. Kai…" His gaze was still locked on mine, and I got the weird impression that he was drinking in every single word I said. "I don't care if you hate me, and I don't care if you think you're OK by yourself. I just want you to know that…even now that this…happened…you're…I…you're _the_ most important person in my life, and I'll always…I'll always be here for you. I promise, Kai, I _promise_ – I'm never going to let anything bad happen to you, not ever. But I know that you just…yeah. I'm sorry. I'll go now."

But I couldn't turn away, because he was smiling.

It was that same, small, half-formed, hopeful smile that I'd first seen all those years ago, when he'd finally reached out his hand and placed it on top of mine and Rei's and Maxie's at the World Championships. It made something inside me want to laugh and cry at the same time; it made something inside me squirm and wriggle excitedly with happiness. Man, I just loved his smile. I always have.

He said, his breath catching slightly, coming in short, happy gasps, "Tyson – don't go. I – I want to – I – "

My brain was trying to figure this out, but wasn't really getting anywhere. So if he was smiling, that meant that he was pleased, which meant that…

He had stepped forward, and his hand was on my arm, gripping it so hard that it hurt. His face was full of this incredible, heartbreaking joy, and the look in his eyes was hard and powerful and victorious, holding my gaze. Icould feel the heat radiating from him, see his cheeks flushing. His hair was falling in my face, and suddenly his arms were around me, pulling me roughly towards him, and his lips had found mine.

Our faces were crushed together, and I swear my heart stopped. There was this second of complete blankness, when it felt like the world was just _gone_. I was floating in this little dream-world that was just way too good to be true… and then reality kicked in, and I was kissing him back, wrapping my arms around him so tightly I was afraid I'd hurt him, cupping the back of his head in one hand.

His lips moved against mine, and he opened the kiss, deepening it. All the desperation and all the hopelessness surged out of me into that kiss. My heartbeats were thundering through me, and I could feel the warmth of his skin, feel the dark, unwavering flame that flickered inside him as he held me against his chest. I was burning with love. This stupid little voice in my head just kept singing happily, _He's kissing me. Kai's kissing me again…_

Then he tore himself away from me, and for one frightening, panicked second, I thought he was going to run – but he didn't. He just cupped my face in his hands, so gently that I felt like I was going to die, right then and there, from pure bliss. His eyes were locked on mine, and he was smiling – the biggest, happiest, most wonderful smile I'd ever seen. I think the best thing was the look in his eyes – unguarded. He wasn't trying to hold anything back – not his strength, for fear of hurting me, and not his feelings, for fear of being hurt. It was like – and _this_ was the best thing – it was like he felt safe with me. He knew I could stand up to him, and he knew I wouldn't hurt him.

I'd never hurt him. No way. No _way_. I'd rather…do…something really, really bad. Hey, my brain wasn't exactly functioning just then.

He said, breathlessly, "Tyson…thank you."

"Dude," I said, weakly. "Kai…I…"

"I mean it," he said. "I…ever since I've known you, you've been the one…the one who cared more than anyone else…the one who never stopped believing in me. I don't think – I don't think I'd have survived without you, Tyson."

"You're the one who kept _me _strong," I said. Man, he was dense…didn't he get that? Didn't he get how much I depended on him? "I love you, Kai. I love you so much."

"I know," he said, his eyes still clear and hard, his voice steady. "I know, Tyson. I know."

I laughed, and kissed him again, with the rain pouring down all around us. I kissed his mouth, and his cheekbones, and the tip of his nose, and his forehead, nuzzling my face against his, while his hands worked their way into my hair. Then our lips met again, and I swear, it was like this wall of flame just punched its way through me. Every nerve was blazing with pleasure, every heartbeat trembling with this ferocious, electrifying need, every raw, clipped breath hitching slightly with happiness. The only sound in the world was the rain, falling all around us, whispering, laughing, trickling behind my ears, sliding down my skin, while his hands had slipped underneath my top, and were pressing and stroking my chest, tracing wide circles on my stomach, wrapping themselves around my back, warm and solid against me.

Our mouths were pressed together, sharing things that we couldn't even begin to say. My hands clutched around his neck, my body pushing up against his, his lips, soft and burning, moving against mine, nipping and pecking at my mouth, playing with me, comforting me, promising me that he would never leave. This was beyond anything I'd ever known – way beyond that first kiss on the rocks. It was right up there with that strange, secret little dream we'd shared so long ago, in that place so far removed from everywhere else that it was like he and I were the only ones who existed. Kai and me, together in everything, rivals, enemies, friends…and now? In…love?

My head was still spinning. He was here, he was real, he was in my arms, and he was kissing me…you know how I said this hadn't been a good day?

Scratch that.

I was marking this day down on the calendar and celebrating it as the best day of my life for the rest of time.

* * *

Rei said, scoffing, "Oh, come on, Tyson. Do you still honestly think you're going to win?"

"Dude! I'm the World Champion over here! I'm going to roll right over you people!" Tyson said. "What do you think, I'm just going to quit? You guys are toast."

"Hey, three tournaments is more than enough for you to win," Max told him, poking him in the side. "The All Starz have been on this top secret new training programme Emily put together last year…but I bet the Chief knows all about that." He winked at Kenny, who blushed. "You and Emily were getting quite friendly last week…"

"I keep telling you, Max! It was nothing!" Kenny shouted. "Nothing at all!"

"Yeah, right," Tyson said, elbowing him. "Maxie told us everything…heh, looks like you've got yourself a girlfriend, Chief!"

"Oh, give the poor guy a break already," Hilary sniffed.

"Heh, looks like Hilary's jealous," Tyson remarked, innocently.

"What did you just say?" Hilary asked, outraged, while Kenny began blushing all over again.

"At least Tyson doesn't have to worry about his Kai hitting on anyone else," Daichi said, grinning wickedly at Tyson. I felt my stomach clench up in apprehension. Not good… "Not like he's going to even _talk_ to anyone else…"

"Would you cut that out?" Tyson yelled at him, while the others snickered. "I am not in love with Kai!"

"If that's what you want us to believe, then fine," Daichi shrugged. "We all know the truth, though…"

"Darn it, Daichi, what do I have to do to get it into your head? I'm going to _kill_ you!"

We were at the river again, all of us: the others clustered together on the bank, sharing several packets of crisps and a bottle of soda, while I sat a little way away on the slope. The weather had been becoming increasingly gloomy over the past week, but today was clear and warm. The wind still had a slightly cool edge to it, and the forecast predicted rain soon, but just then, the skies were filled with a soft, blue-golden warmth that spilled down and covered everything with a faint air of summertime.

I was watching the others idly as Tyson and Daichi started throwing empty sweet wrappers at each other – Max and Rei were holding them apart, so they couldn't actually do too much physical harm, which was probably a good thing. I was smiling as I looked down, my eyes on Tyson. The bright, pure sunlight was making him shine; it was as though he was radiating some kind of glow. I sighed, quietly, almost not realising that I did so.

"You see?" Daichi shouted, pointing up at me. I looked away disdainfully. "You see? He's been staring at Tyson the whole time! Explain that, Mr I-don't-love-Kai! Hah!"

"He is _not_ staring at me!" Tyson shouted.

"Yes, he is."

"No, he's not!"

"Yes, he is!"

"I'm not," I said, clearly. "And for everyone's information, I make it a policy not to date people who act like clowns."

"Hey!" Tyson protested, twisting out of Max's grip and glaring up at me. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Alright, alright, everyone leave Kai alone," Rei said, chuckling, giving Daichi a shove. "Come on, Daichi. Grow up."

"Hmpf! Everyone's out to spoil my fun," Daichi complained, crossing his arms. "No fair."

"Serves you right!" Tyson sang, gleefully. "No one messes with Kai – not unless they want their head bitten off, anyway." He looked up at me, grinning, with a secret light in his eyes that only I understood, and said, "You hear that, Kai? You ready to beat up Daichi for me?"

"I'd rather not waste my time," I said, smoothly.

He stuck his tongue out at me. I tried very hard not to smile at him, and failed. I just had to look at him to feel like I was melting. It was slightly annoying.

But only slightly.

Barely a week ago, he'd told me that he loved me. It had been unreal. It had been like staking my life on the riskiest bet I'd ever taken, and winning. He was mine. I had tried to force myself to be realistic about it,but had given it up as a bad job. What was the point? I loved him. What could be simpler, more real, more true than that? I could look at him, and know that there was someone who cared. I could look at him and see a leader, someone who was strong and courageous and successful, someone who believed in his friends, and who would go to the end of the world and back for them. I could look at him, and see him looking back at me, and know that he valued me.

I think that all I ever wanted was an opponent, someone whom I knew could match me in every way, someone who could keep testing me. Tyson is so much more – he's better than me. He says he isn't, but he is. He is more dedicated and passionate in every aspect of his life than anyone else I've ever known – and he loves me.

"Whoa! Guys!" Max's voice said. "Kai's smiling!"

"Well, the guy's allowed to smile once in a while," Rei said, equably.

"Ah, how sweet!" Hilary called. "Hooray for Kai! You look cute when you smile."

I stood up, beginning to get irritated.

"Hey, don't go!" Max said.

"We were only teasing."

"I have some things to do before tomorrow," I said, shortly. "See you around."

And I left. I knew where I was going.

Standing on the hill, you can look out at the sky, and feel like the whole world has disappeared. A few bright, thin streaks of cloud had appeared on the horizon, painted on the pale sky like thin, blazingly white webs. The wind blew quietly through the grass, and I sat down. The perfect afternoon, the day before the World Championships began.

I was only there for a little while before I heard footsteps, and before something warm and heavy had dived onto me, arms latching around my neck, legs draping themselvesacross my lap, lips finding mine and drawing them into a long, hard, furious kiss. I let him push me down until I was lying in the grass, his hair falling in my face, drinking in his warmth, unable to think.

After a long while, he pulled away, touching the tip of his nose to mine, and pressing our foreheads together. "Things to do," he said. "Yeah, right."

"I do have things to do," I said, the words coming out slowly. It was slightly difficult to concentrate when Tyson was _lying on top of me_. "I should be training."

"But you're not," he said, grinning.

"Get off," I told him.

He rolled off me, settling down next to me in the long grass, folding his arms behind his head, giving a long, contented sigh. "This," he said, happily, "is the life."

"If you say so," I said, neutrally.

He sat up, frowning down at me, and said, "Hey! You've got to admit this is _sweet_. Tomorrow's the start of the Tournament! We're back in the running, Kai! Four times World Champion…oh, yeah."

"I wouldn't get my hopes up if I were you," I said, sitting up, wrapping an arm around my knees, staring out across the city. "This is my year."

"Um, that's what Rei _and_ Maxie said."

"Well, they're obviously just as mistaken as you are."

"I'm winning this one, dude," he said. "And after that, you and me…we're…we're going to be unstoppable." His hand had found mine, his finger slipping into it and squeezing it so tightly that it hurt. I returned the grip. I heard him say, "Oh...Kai..." under his breath, and then he had pulled me towards him, and was kissing me again. I let my hand reach up to brush his cheek, just lightly. He let himself drop forward, into my arms, and rested his face against my chest. I held him, tightly, stroking his hair, pressing my cheek to the top of his head. I could never have done that to anyone else. Tyson…Tyson was the sort of person who made you want to live _more_, who made you want to reach your full potential. He inspired everyone he met.

And he loved me.

I just couldn't stop thinking that.

To know that someone like him, someone as kind and caring and brave as him, actually cared for me, actually found me worth loving, worth having as a rival, was like being made to feel that there was something nice in me after all. There was something in me that was desperate to be nice to him, to make him feel happy, to give him things, to let him know that I loved him. I slipped a hand under his chin, and tilted his face up so that he was looking at me, and gave him a soft, quiet kiss, before saying, "I've decided what I'm going to do about Biovolt."

He wriggled out of my arms, and looked at me excitedly. "Really?"

I nodded. "I think I'm going to start over from the beginning using my grandfather's estate and assets. I think I can change what's left of Biovolt, and his other smaller enterprises, into something much better." I looked at him. "If Voltaire could use his money to hurt people, then I think that I can use it to help them. I could do all sorts of things, once business has been set up - Beyblading programmes for disadvantaged children, for a start."

"Now _that_," he said, "would be just…_awesome_."

"I know. It _is_ my idea," I pointed out, calmly.

"And they say that I'm conceited!" he exclaimed, flopping back down into the grass, and closing his eyes. "Geez, Kai, you're a million times worse than I am."

For a while, we were quiet. His hand had found mine again, and was playing with my fingers gently. I looked down at him, at his open, trusting, beautiful face, a slight, peaceful smile tugging at his lips, his bathed in the light of the sun, the wind ruffling his hair, and felt my heart quiver.

It was like nothing had changed since the last time we were here, long, long ago, and in a way, nothing had. I'd always loved him, and he'd always loved me, he said. We just hadn't known it. Looking at him, then, I knew that some things never changed. Even though the summer was slipping away; even though we were no longer kids; even though nothing could ever be exactly the same as it had been all those years ago when we'd Beybattled against each other for the first time...in a way, we were unchanged. We had merely grown up a little. We were still rivals – still trying desperately to outdo each other. We were still bladers. We were still the closest of friends – and we still loved each other. Some things never changed; some things never ended.

Some things lasted forever.

He stirred, and his eyes flickered open slowly as he gazed up into the bright sky. I smiled, and closed my eyes, turning my face up towards the light, drinking it in. I knew that he would be smiling at me, too.

* * *

**Kai x Takao**

**forever**

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